


What Good Are The Stars Above

by ultravioletInk (loquaciousEscapist)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-25 19:11:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 68,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loquaciousEscapist/pseuds/ultravioletInk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A gratuitous alternate universe where Harry is more interested in the Slytherins than a Gryffindor Muggleborn has any right to be, Louis has settled into his preordained role, and Liam just really wants to get his friends through their final year of Hogwarts without accruing any casualties.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously I'm not claiming this happened - they're all at Hogwarts, I think the media would have noticed all of One Direction disappearing from September to June every year.

For a long, _long_ time, he was convinced it was all an elaborate prank – maybe for some new sitcom or game show, pulling really terrible practical jokes on unsuspecting guys who’ve literally done nothing to deserve it. Even when some woman in dungarees, a poncho and a woolly hat came to the house to explain the repeated letters, he still believed someone was just messing with his head. 

In fact, it wasn’t until Harry Styles was a month into his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that he thinks _maybe_ there is something to this magic thing, and that’s only because he hadn’t come across a single mirror or screen to explain away the special effects.

The talking hat that had proudly proclaimed him to be a Gryffindor, Harry had written this off to be animatronics – the best he’d ever seen, but mechanical none the less. The talking portrait of the Fat Lady was probably just a livestream video hook up. Everything else? He couldn’t explain, and he found himself justifying that with ‘Well, I'm not in the smart house, I’m in the brave house, so-” before remembering that the houses weren’t actually real.

The levitation charm was the catalyst for his belief.

“What’s up? You’re staring at that feather like it can tell you the secret to life,” the boy next to him said. He was wearing a blue tie, and had been trying to engage Harry in conversation for the past month – he was very persistent, but Harry had been convinced he was a paid actor. Now, he didn’t know what to believe.

“This is real, isn’t it?” He said stupidly. “The magic thing.” The boy blinked.

“Uh, are you a Muggleborn? Didn’t someone come and explain this all to you?”

“Yeah, I just figured... You know... That this was some practical joke. Or something.” The boy laughed – it wasn’t unkind.

“That’s why you’ve been walking around like you’re expecting someone to jump out at you! We’ve been worried about you – well, I’ve been worried about you, my mates just think you’re kind of hilarious. I’m Liam, Liam Payne.” He actually held his hand out to shake, and Harry had to fight back an ‘aw’.

“Harry Styles.” They shake. “What’s a Muggleborn?”

“Non-magic parents. You’ve got Muggleborns, halfbloods – one magic one Muggle, that’s what I am – and pure-bloods, two magic parents.”

“Is it... Bad, that I’ve got Muggle parents?” Liam shook his head firmly.

“Nah. I mean, look at Hermione Granger.”

“Who?”

“Hermione Granger? Works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement? One of the best witches of her generation – she was a Muggleborn. Look her up, might give you an ego boost.” Liam paused. “Most people don’t care what parents you have, it has no bearing on the type of wizard you are, but some people are still a bit... Iffy.” Harry got the impression that Liam was being polite. “Like, take the pure-bloods. Most of them are alright, but there’s still some that’ll treat you like dirt because they still believe in the pure-blood theologies.”

“But yeah, most of us aren’t bad,” the boy on Liam’s right leant forward and nodded his head. “Zayn Malik, pure-blood, an ‘alright’ bloke.” Liam shoved his shoulder.

“You know what I meant.”

“What Liam is _trying_ to say is watch out for the Slytherins – you’re a Gryffindor Muggleborn, you’re gonna make a few enemies in that house. The Hufflepuffs are great, we’ve got a friend there, we’ll introduce you to him after class – and then, obviously, there’s the Ravenclaws, the greatest house you’ll ever meet.” Zayn grinned and flicked his wand lazily at the feather, making it hover over their heads for a few moments.

“Well _done_ Mr Malik!” The professor said. “Mr Styles, you’re looking less bewildered today, let’s see what you can do.” Harry looked at the professor, panicking, and felt a hand bump against his – Liam had slipped a note into his hand.

‘ _Win-gar-dee-um Leh-vee-oh-sa_ ’

Reading the note aloud and flicking his wand in the general vicinity of the feather, Harry tried to make the feather defy all of his previously known laws of gravity. The feather twitched, jumped into the air spasmodically, and then rocketed up into the air with such force that the quill actually buried into the wooden ceiling. They stared up at it for a few moments.

“Less force in the wrist next time, but that was a very good first attempt - five points to Gryffindor,” the professor said, winking at Harry. 

“Glad you didn’t set it on fire,” Zayn said as the tiny professor turned to the next group, a struggling knot of Gryffindor girls Harry had seen around the common room. “First time I waved a wand at something, I caused hundreds of galleons worth of damage.”

“That’s because you set fire to Ollivander’s, you twat,” Liam countered. “And you were showing off because I walked in and you tried to light the lantern behind my head. My hair hasn’t grown back properly for _weeks_.” Liam rubbed his short hair ruefully. 

When Zayn told Liam that he’d done him a favour by setting him alight, “how else would I have made an impact on you, hold out my hand for a _handshake_?”, Liam had demanded that he and Harry swapped seats, so Harry spent the remainder of the lesson between the two of them – Zayn was charming little folded paper flowers to float into Harry’s hair, and Liam was muttering under his breath about “arseholes who should learn not to abuse magic”.

“For homework,” the professor said, just managing to interrupt Liam from attempting to perform a Full Body-Bind Curse on Zayn to stop his increasingly complicated charmwork from going wrong. “A foot on the improvements the levitation charm brought to general magical levitation, due next lesson.” The class packed their bags loudly – Zayn and Liam turned to Harry.

“You got plans?”

“Oh, I was going to do my homework, then-”

“That’s such a _Liam_ thing to do,” Zayn said; Liam kicked him in the shin. “First you’re coming to the kitchens with us, then we’ll actually give you a tour of the castle, I bet you haven’t even bothered to look around yet.” Harry hadn’t, but he didn’t think it’d be wise to admit that he had, in fact, been holing himself up in his dorm every night after classes, only eating at breakfast and dinner. He hadn’t had lunch in over a month.

“The kitchens?” Harry asked, allowing the boys to lead him out of the classroom.

“Yeah. It’s not strictly meant for the students, but there’s no rule saying we’re not allowed in there – I checked,” Liam said.

“He did,” Zayn added. He continued to speak, heading down the stairs. “I wouldn’t have even thought to look there for the kitchens, really. There are perks to having friends in other houses – loads of people just stick to their houses, but we’ve really branched out,” He said proudly, scooting around some huge seventh years.

“We have two friends outside of our house – you’re the second,” Liam admitted quietly.

They headed down several flights of stairs, drawing to a halt in front of a portrait of a fruitbowl, which Zayn leant forward to and –

“Why’re you stroking the pear?” Harry asked.

“You’re doing it wrong, you’re supposed to tickle it!” Liam said, elbowing Zayn out of the way.

“I _was_ tickling it!”

“Remind me never to get into a tickle fight with you then, you were practically _caressing_ that pear.” Harry, meanwhile, was staring in awe at the passageway the portrait had revealed, after the pear had squirmed upon Liam’s touch. “Niall, you in there?”

“Mate, when am I _not_ in here? Oh, you’re new, come have a sandwich.” A blonde boy in a yellow tie grinned at Harry. “Niall Horan, resident food junkie, Hufflepuff first year.”

“Harry Styles, Gryf – oh my _God_ what is that?” What looked like a shrivelled potato in a white sheet bowed low.

“It’s a House Elf,” Liam explained. “They’re like servants.”

“I is Dinky, Master. Can I gets you a snack?” The _thing_ stood up straight – it had eyes like shot put balls, and a mouth like ripped leather.

“I... Uh...”

“Don’t mind Harry, he’s in a permanent state of shock,” Zayn explained. “He’ll have one of everything, he looks like he hasn’t had a good meal in weeks. So, Nialler, how was Transfiguration?” Niall grinned.

“Terrible, I completely overshot my spell and turned somebody’s desk into a matchstick – gained five points for advanced magic, lost ten for not paying attention.”

“Could’ve been worse, Harry here nearly impaled me with his feather,” Zayn sniggered. 

“Mate, you’ve been reading your mum’s romance novels again, haven’t you,” Niall said, nodding sympathetically. “Mum’s been going mental over some book her Muggle cousin gave her, 50 Shades of Grey? Perhaps she’d lend it to you.” Liam raised his eyebrows at Harry and bit into a pasty.

***

Pockets stuffed with enough food to feed a small country for several days, the boys left the kitchens.

“How about we head to the lake? It’s still pretty warm out,” Niall said.

“Look, I know you spent the whole summer in Iceland or somewhere-”

“Ireland, _Ireland_.”

“-but some of us actually went to places with temperatures in the _double figures_.”

“I think what Zayn’s _trying_ to say is that it’s pretty nippy out – we could try the library?” Liam suggested; Niall snorted.

“That’s such a _Ravenclawy_ thing to say.”

“No,” Zayn protested, holding up a hand. “I would _never_ say that.”

“That’s because I’m convinced you’re just pretending to be a Ravenclaw, I’ve never once seen you open a book, and I _always_ have to give you the answer to the statue’s question, the whole point of it is to encourage intellectual discussion, not–”

“Look out, Slytherin, straight ahead,” Niall said, trying to sound subtle by faking a coughing fit; Slytherin was not a suitable word to cough.

“Turn round, we can probably out-walk him, I still haven’t managed to change my other tie back to blue after our last Slytherin encounter,” Liam said, trying to chivvy them away – Harry, who had been eating a crumpet one of the house elves had pressed on him, swallowed hastily.

“What? But the door’s that way, why can’t we just walk past him, he’s only a first year, he’s in my potions class!” The other three boys looked at him with a mixture of admiration and pity.

“ _Gryffindors_. All right, fine, we’ll walk past him – better to learn your lesson with a first year Slytherin than seventh years, they can get nasty, especially round the Quidditch season-”

“I’m sorry, did the Hufflepuff just say Quidditch? You know your house shouldn’t say that word, you haven’t won a match since Potter was knocked out by his idiotic substitute Beater.” Niall flushed angrily, and the Slytherin smirked.

“Lay off, Tomlinson, some of us value things besides Quidditch,” Liam said nervously – Tomlinson turned to look at him with unconcealed relish.

“Like what, getting turned on by the smell of old books? I’ll stick to sport, thanks. Malik!” He looked him up and down. “Mate, you look terrible in blue, have I told you?”

“Many times,” Zayn said stiffly.

“I’m sure old McGonagall will let you transfer,” Tomlinson said.

“I’d rather drop out, actually,” Zayn countered – the Slytherin shrugged, and then turned to Harry.

“ _Well_ , it looks like you three have acquired the pet Gryffindor Mudblood – tell me, does it know any tricks?”

“Piss off,” Harry said, the only witty enough comeback he could think of. 

“Wow, the little kitty has claws – _cute_.” He smiled benignly, and spread his hands. “Well, I guess I’d be off, we’re having a little pre-emptive party for our win in the first match.”

“But the game hasn’t even happened yet,” Niall said – Tomlinson raised his eyebrows.

“Hence the “pre-emptive”,” he said, making exaggerated finger quotations. “Wow, can see why you got put in the duff house.”

“Get lost, Tomlinson,” Zayn said fiercely – the Slytherin held up his hands in mock surrender. 

“I’m going, I’m going!” He paused, bringing a hand up to his chin and frowning in mock thought. “There’s something I’ve forgotten... Oh yeah! Locomotor Mortis!” His wand was in his hand and pointing at Niall before Harry had even considered getting his own wand out – instead he’d pushed Niall out of the way, getting the full blast of the spell and toppling over, face first. “Huh. Not what I expected, but still _just as hilarious_.” Tomlinson walked off, laughing loudly.

“Ow,” Harry said pointedly. 

“Idiot Gryffindor,” Niall said fondly, grabbing one of his arms as Zayn grabbed the other and hauled him upright. “That could’ve been anything, and you just took it like it wasn’t a big deal. Liam, do you know the counter curse?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know if I can perform it without making it worse – we should take him to Madam Pomfrey. Chance to see the Hospital Wing?” 

“Sounds exciting,” Harry deadpanned. “Not far, is it? Don’t think I can hop up too many stairs.”

“Just a flight of stairs round the corner – Tomlinson was probably coming from there,” Zayn said, throwing Harry’s arm around his shoulder and helping him hobble down the hall.

“Who was that guy, anyway? Seemed like you all know him.”

“Louis Tomlinson. Our parents know each other – he used to be alright, then we got here, he got sorted into Slytherin, and now he’s a dick,” Zayn said bluntly. “He got into the Slytherin Quidditch team, first first year to do that since Potter – you can probably imagine how modest he was about it.”

“Quidditch – what’s that, anyway?” The three boys turned to stare at Harry.

“Oh my God-”

“He doesn’t know-”

“The _poor_ kid-”

Several hours, one counter curse, and a trip to the library to check out _Quidditch Through The Ages_ later, and Liam was still trying to earnestly explain the rules while Zayn and Niall contributed by re-enacting their favourite matches their parents had taken them to see. 

“-and they just keep adding to the fouls, because it’s such a complicated game – they should really think about codifying the rules, I mean, some of them are _so_ outdated-”

“-he just _swooped_ , it was so fantastic, man, what’s that move called?”

“The Wronski Feint, it was the greatest thing ever, the other guy’s broomstick just went SMACK on the ground, CRUNCH, they had to get the Healers out and everything, took three levitation charms to lift him-”

“-like ‘Players should not throw powdered dodo’s beak onto players brooms in an attempt to counteract the flight charms’? _Really_? Dodos have been extinct for hundreds of years, there’s no need-”

“-Krum’s final game though, god, still gives me chills any time I think about it!”

“When he just-” Zayn lunged out his arm, almost punching Niall in the face. “He _just_ missed! I’ve watched the footage back over and over again, you can see his fingertips brush the wings of the Snitch, isn’t that the worst thing you’ve heard, he was _this_ close!”

“The Snitch is the little one, right?” Harry asked, flicking through the book frantically.

“Yeah. What you need to understand is that Krum’s the best Seeker I’ve ever seen play – I’ve been to a _lot_ of matches – and to not catch the Snitch in his last match was just...”

“Bulgaria still _won_ , but that’s not the point.” There was silence for a moment, in reverence of the Seeker Harry still knew practically nothing about (although Liam was probably creating his own codified version of the Quidditch rules in his head, rather than paying his respects for Viktor Krum).

“...We heading down for dinner?” Niall said eventually. “I’m _starving_.”

“You should sit with us, Harry,” Liam said. Harry blinked, still not used to the whole ‘having friends’ business.

“You sure?” Zayn laughed.

“Mate, if we didn’t like you, I wouldn’t have carried you bridal style all the way to the Hospital Wing.”

“It wasn’t _bridal style_ , and it was barely twenty feet, what’re you on about...” Harry said – Zayn batted his eyelashes.

“I tease because I care, muffincakes.”

“That’s a pretty redundant nickname, it’d be like calling him ‘applefruit’ or something,” Liam said.

“Liam, if you wanted me to call you applefruit, all you had to do was ask,” Zayn said, putting his arm around Liam’s shoulders. “Niall, where’re we – where’d he go?”

“Probably ran ahead to get us seats,” Liam said. “I mean, house intersectionality is great, don’t get me wrong, but just _once_ I want to get a seat that isn’t right under the teachers noses.”

“What?” Harry asked.

“They used to seat us by house, but then some bright spark-”

“Probably Professor Longbottom, let’s be honest.”

“-came up with little tables, to encourage us to ‘mingle’, and there’s a few tables right by the teachers that, obviously, no one wants to sit at, and because we’re first years we always end up there. Wait...” Liam paused, looking at Harry. “Where’ve _you_ been sitting?”

“With the Prefects, usually,” Harry admitted; Zayn shook his head.

“You poor thing. Come, let us introduce you to a world of conversation that isn’t about polishing badges, or whatever it is Prefects talk about.”

After a minor scuffle with some Hufflepuffs, the four boys ended up on a reasonably decent table – unfortunately close to some Slytherins, but it would have to do.

“Timetable,” Liam said, holding out his hand. Harry blinked. “Come on, we need to compare classes – I _think_ I’ve only got Charms with you, I haven’t seen you in anything else...”

“Have you been watching me?”

“Yes,” Liam said plainly. “As I said earlier, I’ve been a bit worried about you.”

“That’s Liam for you,” Zayn said.

“We think he’s part Weasley, they’re all quite motherhen-y,” Niall said. “I remember one year my parents had some sort of party and invited the Potters, so-” and Niall was off, regaling stories of his childhood surrounded by people who were probably _very_ important – Harry supposed he’d be more impressed if he knew who any of these people were. Zayn occasionally added to a story with his own side, so eventually Harry asked,

“Did you all grow up together or something?”

“Liam wasn’t around, he was off attending some Muggle school for the offensively gifted-”

“I went to a regular Muggle primary school,” Liam explained. “Dad figured I should stay in touch with my Muggle roots, so I could truly appreciate the gift of magic; these two just aren’t used to people who’ve been schooled before the age of eleven.”

“My parents always hosted parties and stuff, they’re pretty important, so Zayn was around a lot, and where there was Zayn there was Tomlinson – he didn’t really like me, I think.” Niall shrugged. “Slytherin since the beginning.”

“Ey, the hat thought about putting me in Slytherin,” Zayn said snippily. “But I told it where to go, so it put me in Ravenclaw instead.”

“You were a hat stall,” Liam said knowledgeably.

“And remarks like that are precisely why the static energy from your head was enough for the hat to put you in Ravenclaw,” Niall said, pointing a sausage at Liam.

“The hat talked to me for ages,” Harry said, remembering, trying to look at the memory through wizarding eyes as opposed to ones looking for animatronics. “About how he’d put some other kid named Harry in Gryffindor, and how I would probably be expected to do my namesake proud or something.” The three boys raised their eyebrows simultaneously. “What?”

“At some point during your magical education, open a book on recent wizarding history,” Liam said with a laugh. “Maybe then all these references won’t go over your head.”

“Um, excuse me?” The boys turned. Two girls, a Hufflepuff and a Gryffindor, were stood there, clutching their bags with tight hands. “Mind if we sit down? We tried sitting with the Slytherins, but they threatened to curse my friend if she sat near them...” The Gryffindor looked at her friend worriedly, before turning fiercely to the boys, glaring at each of them in turn.

“No, go ahead!” Liam said, scooting round to let the girls sit down. “I’m Liam, that’s Niall, Zayn, and Harry.”

“Yeah, I know Harry, we’ve got all our classes together.”

“Right! Uh, this is...” Harry tried to remember her name; she laughed.

“Eleanor. Harry always has his head in the clouds, the amount of times I’ve tried to get him to talk to me, you have no idea...” She shook her head. “Thought I had bad breath or something.”

“Oh, no, it’s nothing like that, I just thought you were, you know, an actor or something.” Eleanor looked confused, but the other girl looked up.

“Me too! New TV reality show, right?” Harry laughed.

“Yeah! Only stopped thinking that today when we did-”

“Levitation!” The two laughed, and the girl held out her hand. “Danielle, pretty obvious Muggleborn.”

“Harry, the biggest Muggleborn you’ll ever meet.”

“May I have your attention, please?” Headmaster McGonagall chimed her fork against her glass. “ _Somebody_ ,” she directed her gaze towards an overly innocent looking group of Gryffindors. “Has released an ‘Expanding Fart Miasma’ in the Entrance Hall.” She glared around the room, daring anyone to laugh. “Due to its ‘expanding’ nature, I have to ask all of you to return to your dormitories immediately, before the stench of it becomes any more severe.” The dishes were wiped clean just as Harry was beginning to help himself to pudding.

“I don’t understand why someone would do that while we’re eating,” Liam said irritably; Niall rolled his eyes.

“Because it’s _funny_ ,” he said.

“It’d be _funnier_ if they did it outside the teachers’ lounge, so they couldn’t leave.”

“...Sometimes I wonder about you, Payne, I really do.”


	2. Four Letters, the Stargrazer, and a Misadventure with Cartography

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flash forward to the summer before their seventh year, and beneath the shining sun above Diagon Alley are undercurrents of something much darker...

Harry had only just managed to fall asleep when the owl began hooting indignantly at his window. It was obviously Zayn’s owl – third year he’d splashed out, bought a monstrosity of a thing that was more albatross than owl – and it looked like it had murder on its mind, its face pressed up against the window. Sighing explosively, Harry swung his legs out of bed and rummaged through his suitcase for his dragonhide gloves, the only thing strong enough to combat the Thing.

“All right, come at me, bird,” he muttered, opening the window – Tweety Pie (so named for the only Muggle television program Zayn could sit through without requiring explanation) burst into the room, hooting like a freight train. “ _Gah_ , holy shit, would you just – not the face, _not the face_ , Malik I’m going to roast this bloody – _give me my damn letter!_ ”

“Harry dear, who’re you talking to?” His mother called drowsily from her own bedroom.

“Don’t worry, Mum, it’s just Zayn’s devil bird!” This was suitable explanation enough – too many times had Tweety Pie caused havoc in their house.

Eventually, by tricking the bird into swiping at his exposed arm and relinquishing its hold on the letter, followed by successfully trapping it in his closet, Harry sat on the edge of his bed to read the letter, which proved to be disappointingly short, considering how much effort it had taken to get it.

_Mate_ , it began in Zayn’s scrawl. _Heard anything about Head Boy yet?_

_It’s not me,_ Harry penned on the back of the letter. _Badges have gone out – Eleanor got Q Captain, got her letter earlier. It’s got to be Liam, right?_

He refolded the letter, opened his closet door a crack, and chucked it in – the owl went ballistic, throwing its weight at the door and screeching indignantly. Harry propped a chair up against the door, and went to open the window.

“Alright, Tweety Pie, take that back, and take off a few of Zayn’s fingers for good measure – might encourage him to get an owl, rather than some monster from the abyss.” Harry kicked away the chair and jumped behind the bed – the owl took off through the window, narrowly missing the several owls that had been waiting patiently on the window sill. The first to recover from the shock was Niall’s pygmy owl, Reagan. Because of its size, Niall’s letters were always rolled stupidly tight into tiny scrolls, and were very abrupt and to the point.

_Let’s be honest, wasn’t gonna be me._

The next owl was Danielle’s, a graceful barn owl she’d named Granger (“She’s such an inspiration,” Danielle had gushed after meeting Hermione Granger for the first time. She had two signed photos, wizard and Muggle, a poster, and her biography.

“Not _auto_ biography, she doesn’t have the time to write that, but at least it isn’t any Skeeter trash.”)

_Dear Harry_ ,

_How’ve your holidays been so far? Have you been keeping up with the news? There’s been some worrying things, but no one else seems too worried? Apparently wizards are prone to going missing, but I think something serious might be happening! Please keep an eye on the news for me!_

_Did you hear that Eleanor got Gryffindor Quidditch Captain?! I was so happy for her!! She really deserves it, she worked so hard for it! Are you going to try out this year? I’ve watched you play, I think you’re good – I mean, I know that’s not much, coming from me, I know as much about Quidditch as you do about Ancient Runes, but you_ look _like you know what you’re doing! What position would you try out for?_

_I still haven’t heard who got Head Boy – I’m kind of worried about it. Liam_ deserves _it, there’s no question about it, he’s the hardest working Prefect, and the first and second years really look up to him, but what if some Slytherin gets it? Alright, some of them wouldn’t be too bad, but imagine Tomlinson and me as the Head Boy and Girl???_

_...I’ve just reread the letter and realised I hadn’t actually mentioned I was Head Girl! Hahahaha, this is why you should plan out any writing first! Yes, I got my letter today, I was so happy about it! Mum and Dad are so proud, they understand ‘Head Girl’ – the amount of times I’ve had to explain that ‘A’ isn’t a good grade, you wouldn’t believe!_

_Are you going to Diagon Alley next week? I think we should all go on the Friday, get a room, spend the weekend, and catch the train to Hogwarts on the Monday – what do you think? Unless you have other plans??_

_Have you done all of your essays yet? Don’t leave the Arithmancy homework to the last minute, it’s a lot of work, it took me a few days!_

_Danielle xoxo_

Harry put the letter to one side – replies to Danielle took longer, and it would be better to leave writing it to the daylight hours – perhaps as another way to procrastinate on his Arithmancy homework.

The final owl, Liam’s old tawny owl named Albus, hopped over to the bed, malting with each movement – Liam had attached a very thick envelope, and the poor owl was lopsided.

Inside the envelope was a letter, a photograph, a newspaper clipping, a photocopy of the Arithmancy homework _and_ the Potions homework, and a short postscript note that was headed with ‘READ THIS LAST’ – Harry took out the letter first.

_Harry,_

_You’re probably wondering why I’ve sent you more paper than you’ve probably seen in one sitting – something rather interesting has come up. Don’t suppose you’ve seen anything odd in the news? You’re probably not looking for it – can’t imagine you sitting with a newspaper, to be honest – but there’ve been a few unexplained disappearances, and the people that’ve vanished have_ no _connection with each other. One Muggleborn, two half-bloods, two pure-bloods. Three men, two women. All of varying ethnicities, class brackets, ages... Very odd. Despite what the Prophet is saying, wzards_ don’t _disappear without explanation that often, so this is probably something to keep an eye on. The newspaper clipping goes into a bit more detail – yes, it’s from The Quibbler, but they’re known to print fact on occasion._

_The photograph is of Zayn – most hilarious thing I’ve seen in my life, came under the headline ‘Heir to Malik Fortune Spiralling Into Drink And Crime?’ – get this, Zayn was tripping over his own shoelaces while holding a J20 bottle, you can see the label, all the pure-bloods are up in arms because they think it’s Muggle beer, underage drinking... Pure-bloods, man._

_The homework is because I know you haven’t done yours yet, let’s be honest._

_Have you heard anything about who got Head Boy? The suspense is killing me, from what I’ve heard no one’s got their badges yet? Which is odd, because I know for a fact Eleanor’s got Quidditch Captain, Flitwick let it slip last year._

_See you soon!_

_Liam_

The postscript on the separate scrap of paper said

_I GOT HEAD BOY WHY DID I GET HEAD BOY I AM NOT HEAD BOY MATERIAL THIS IS A DISASTER_

Harry laughed out loud and pulled out his phone – he’d promised Zayn and Niall to only call them when he absolutely had to, because using their mobiles stressed them out extensively – while they’d been accommodating of Muggle transport, liked Muggle television and loved Muggle snacks, neither of them could get a grasp of Muggle technology. He called Niall, who was slightly more competent, knowing that Zayn was staying at Niall’s for the end of the holidays.

“HELLO? THIS IS NIALL. NIALL. HORAN. YES.”

“Mate, it’s me.”

“ME WHO?”

“Harry? Your phone comes up with who’s calling you, come on, we’ve been through this. And you don’t need to shout, I can hear you, it’s honestly just like Floo.”

“Right, sorry, I forget. Hi.”

“Guess who got Head Boy.”

“Fuck _off_ it wasn’t you.”

“Nah, idiot, Liam did.”

“Good. Zayn wants to talk, hang on, I’ll – no, hold it the other – there we go.”

“Harry, look at this.”

“Phones don’t work like that, I can’t see it if you hold the phone up to the thing.”

“Oh. It’s the front cover of the other day’s Prophet. The story isn’t as good if you can’t see it.”

“Is it the photo of you as a drunken delinquent?”

“How the hell do you know, you said you can’t see it!”

“Liam sent me a copy. I’m thinking of framing it.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” The boys talked for a few minutes, Zayn and Niall passing the phone back and forth between them until they were eventually talking over each other, before Harry decided to call it a night and go back to bed.

***

“Have you got everything you need?”

“Yes, Mum.”

“Are you _sure_?” She said, looking at his singular suitcase doubtfully.

“Honestly, Mum, I’ve got everything!” She pulled Harry down for a hug, forcing him to bend his knees uncomfortably.

“Be good, have fun, stay _safe_.” This was her farewell every year, but in light of the letters from Liam and Danielle, and things Harry himself had been seeing in the news (now that he was actively looking for them, that is), the statement took on a more ominous tone; Harry wrapped his arms around her tightly.

“I’ll visit over Christmas – McGonagall said the seventh years can Apparate home if they want to.” Harry’s mother smiled widely.

“That’d be nice, and it’d mean I wouldn’t have to mail you all of your Christmas presents-”

“Har- _ry_!” Eleanor shouted, appearing at the door of the Leaky Cauldron and waving fanatically – Harry’s mother jumped at the appearance of the girl from a door she could not see. “You made it! Everyone else is here already, we’ve got our rooms sorted – you’re with me and Zayn, operation Danielle-and-Liam is in effect as of now. Hello, Anne, it’s lovely to see you, I’m so sorry but me and Harry are running late, we've got tickets to see Hermione Granger do a speech on public awareness, we need to get going.” She stopped to take a breath. “Tom?!” She shouted back towards the pub – Tom came hobbling out. “Would you mind helping me haul Harry’s luggage upstairs while he says goodbye to his Mum, please?” The two of them shuffled away, half pushing, half carrying the suitcase into the pub.

“Is that man... Safe?” Anne asked worriedly.

“Who, Tom?” Harry laughed. “He’s been the landlord for longer than you’ve been alive, Mum, it’s pretty likely he’s safe.” He shuffled his feet. “Sorry I can’t invite you with us, but-”

“No, go, it sounds like the opportunity of a lifetime,” Anne said kindly. Although everyone teased Danielle for her obsession with Hermione Granger, Harry certainly harboured an interest for one of the most influential Muggleborns of all time.

Hastily waving to his mum over his shoulder, Harry ran after Eleanor and Tom – Liam, Zayn, Niall and Danielle were stood in the bar, dressed smartly and looking anxious to leave. Harry looked down guiltily at his torn jeans.

“No problem, no problem, I’ve already transfigured Niall’s clothes, he’d spilled something down them at breakfast this morning,” Danielle said, whipping out her wand and waving it in a complex looking squiggle, transfiguring Harry’s clothes into jeans that almost _smelt_ ironed, a clean shirt and a blazer. “Eleanor we need to _go_!” She shouted, just as Eleanor herself rounded the corner.

“Coming, coming – where’s the venue?”

“Flourish and Blotts,” Liam said, helping Danielle to chivvy everyone outside. “Upstairs – there were only twenty tickets available, it’s amazing we managed to get six...”

“Do you want money for my ticket?” Harry asked. It stood to reason that a ticket to see Hermione Granger wouldn’t exactly be cheap, but everyone shook their head.

“Nah, we got them free,” Eleanor said, weaving her way past a witch with a bright orange hat perched precariously on her head. “My Mum works for her, and these were a present for getting Quidditch Captain – speaking of, which position are you trying out for, Styles?” Harry shrugged.

“Keeper, I guess.” Eleanor grinned and grabbed both of his hands.

“Tempted to enlist you right away just from the size of these,” she said, waving them about and almost knocking a tiny wizard over.

“And what if I decided to go for Seeker, huh, what then?”

“That position’s taken, sadly, by me. As the Captain, I reserve first dibs on positions, and I’ve been playing Seeker for longer than you’ve known how to spell Quidditch.”

“Not hard then,” Niall quipped, “Considering he was spelling it with one ‘d’ until he was fourteen.”

“Whoa, it’s pretty packed in there,” Zayn said. “You sure we’re guaranteed seats?” Danielle waved an envelope, before diving into the crowd of people in Flourish and Blotts, heading for the stairs, the rest of the seventh years following her.

“The venue’s upstairs, it’s a private function, it shouldn’t be too crowded...” She arrived at the door first, Liam and Harry close behind.

“Hey, cool, no one’s up here yet, get the front seats!” Harry called out.

“They’re in rows of five, what do you want to do?” Danielle called back, passing the envelope of tickets to a burly looking Auror and pointing at the group.

“Three and three? You, Liam and Harry at the front, because you’re the ones in love with her, then us three sane people will sit in the row behind you,” Eleanor said, pulling Zayn and Niall along with her.

“We aren’t _in love_ with her, we just appreciate the messages she is trying to get across,” Liam said stiffly, nonetheless taking a seat directly in front of the podium.

“Psst, Harry, I’m going to pull your hair throughout this entire talk,” Zayn said wickedly, giving an experimental tug on Harry’s curls to demonstrate.

“Do that and I’ll shave your badger streak off,” Harry warned. “You’ll look like Liam in first year. No, you’ll look worse, because I’ll only shave part of your head.” Zayn’s hands flew up protectively to his hair; Harry sniggered. “Exactly.”

People began to filter into the room in twos and threes to fill the remaining seats, until the only two remaining were the two at the front, next to Harry, and the seat at the front that was reserved for Hermione Granger.

When she walked in, the noise level in the room fell from a low murmur to total silence, but she was so engrossed in the morning newspaper that she didn’t respond to it, neatly dodging somebody’s bag that they'd left in the aisle. As she got to the front, Harry took a good look at her. Her hair was greying at the temples and pulled up into a bun, and rather than wearing robes she was in the sort of outfit his mum would wear to a job interview. She sat down, flicked through the newspaper, and held up the page she turned to.

“This morning’s Prophet, page twelve, tiny subsection under an article about a Mr Malik;” Zayn shrunk down in his seat behind Harry. “‘ _Elderly Wizard not seen for three weeks – Muggle authorities becoming suspicious.’_ Just some food for thought there.” Harry took a glance at Liam and Danielle; Danielle was nodding slightly, and Liam was looking enraptured. “My name is Hermione Granger, and-”

“Sorry, sorry, crap, excuse – ah, _shit_ ,” somebody running late had tripped over the bag left in the way – Hermione looked up.

“Here to see me? Only seats left are at the front, I’m afraid, so I’ll get to look at you disapprovingly for the whole seminar.” She winked and gestured to the front row.

“Holy shit it’s Tomlinson,” Eleanor hissed – the six of them turned to look at him. Harry watched curiously as he flushed dark red and sat stiffly on the chair, making a point of not choosing the seat next to Harry.

As they’d gotten older, Louis Tomlinson hadn’t gotten any less annoying, but Harry found himself more intrigued by him than irritated. Tomlinson seemed to be popular, yet he was by himself a lot; he seemed immature, yet McGonagall had made him Slytherin Prefect. And now he was at a seminar by Hermione Granger, despite apparently buying into pure-blood theology?

“When you look back on the rise of the Dark Lord Voldemort, especially if you are a youth who did not experience it for yourself,” Hermione began. “You might question why any number of people did not put a stop to it – teachers, employers, more powerful wizards... The more astute of you may realise that hindsight, of course, is always 20/20. Studying the past, however, will improve our view of the present, and give us the knowledge to attempt to prevent mistakes from happening again.

“Let us assume, however” she continued, “that you were already aware of this fact. What can we, as a community, _do_ to prevent similar things from happening? Question, purely out of curiosity – how many of you have, or presently do, study Muggle Studies?” Harry looked at the hands raised – besides Niall, Liam, and Louis, only five other people raised their hands, all exclusively below the age of thirty. “Twenty years ago, that figure would have been significantly lower – in a gathering of twenty people, you would have been lucky to have one person pursuing Muggle Studies. Ignorance of the unknown increases fear – likewise, Muggle Studies remains an optional module at Hogwarts and Beauxbatons, allowing people to pursue that knowledge if they wish. Forcing knowledge on a person can, after all, increase dislike of the subject – a reason why many Muggle children despise Mathematics.” Liam, Harry and Danielle snickered, apparently the only Muggle schooled children in the room. Danielle held up her hand.

“Miss Granger, couldn’t one argue that Lord Voldemort _had_ a reasonable knowledge of Muggles, due to growing up in a Muggle orphanage, which is how he was able to target his regime so efficiently?” Hermione nodded

“Counterpoint, if Voldemort’s knowledge had been gained in an unbiased way, would he have been so prejudiced?” Hermione laughed slightly. “Would he have been Lord Voldemort at all? Nevertheless, that is a good point, and one I want to go into more...”

The seminar lasted two hours – aside from the occasional question from Danielle, Liam, or Louis (who merely asked ‘did Voldemort’s house have any bearing on his choices and life?’ – he looked disappointed at Hermione’s answer of ‘yes’), Hermione talked extensively on how to spot the warning signs of the potential rise of a Dark Wizard (“Or Witch,” she’d said firmly. “Bellatrix Lestrange was testament to that fact.” She absentmindedly rubbed her forearm, covered by the sleeve of her jacket) to the point where Harry would be listing the signs in his sleep.

“Oh, damn, I’ve run over again, I promised I’d be finished by four,” Hermione said, looking at her watch. “Are there any questions?” No one raised their hands. “Well, I hope I haven’t wasted your time here today, and that you learnt something useful.” Louis was the first to leave, bolting out of the room as fast as he could.

“What do you reckon that was about?” Harry said, turning in his seat.    

“Maybe one of his friends bet him to come here?” Niall said; Zayn shook his head.

“Nah, he seemed pretty into it.”

“Excuse me?” Harry whipped around – Hermione was looking over at them. “I couldn’t help but overhear, was that boy a friend of yours?”

“More like an acquaintance – we’re in the same year at Hogwarts,” Eleanor said, while Niall grimaced.

“Ah. He seemed... Well, he wasn’t someone I would have pegged as coming to one of my talks, that’s all.”

“It was all very interesting,” Liam said earnestly – Hermione nodded vaguely.

“Thank you, dear. Oh, I do hope I didn’t offend that poor boy with my answer, I thought we were talking about specifics, not generalisations... I’ve got an idea, I’ll... Oh, I’m sorry, I need to make a phone call – if you want to wait downstairs, I’ll be happy to talk to you some more in a bit?” She chivvied them out of the room – Harry made to walk downstairs as she shut the door, but Eleanor and Zayn grabbed him by the arms and pulled him back.

“What’re you-”

“Shh!” Eleanor said, pointing at the slightly ajar door – Hermione’s voice floated through.

“...how you cancelled that trip up the school? Reschedule it. Obviously not for your anniversary, it was stupid of you to schedule it for then the first time! Yeah. Uh-huh. I need a second opinion, but I’m pretty sure... He seemed normal! Distressingly so, which makes me wonder why they’re rallying... Misinformation, I suppose. There’s another boy, though, I’m worried for him. No, not exactly... Think Draco – he was in the office the other day, you know, told me to send his regards, and that ‘the Harpies are doing horrifically, stop getting your wife pregnant’. His words. That’s exactly what I said...” The six walked away from the door as Hermione continued to talk about ‘Draco’.

“She seemed pretty interested in Tomlinson,” Zayn said thoughtfully.

“He’s a weird bloke,” Niall said.

“I can’t believe you all sat through two hours of really interesting information, and the one thing you’re discussing is _Louis Tomlinson_ ,” Liam said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The guy’s allowed to go listen to her if he wants, she’s really interesting and _none of you seem to care except Danielle_.” Eleanor caught Harry’s eye and grinned.

“Here’s an idea then, you two wait here for her so you can take her out to dinner and engage her in a polygamous marriage, and we’ll go to Quality Quidditch Supplies or something – meet back at the Leaky Cauldron later?” They left before Liam and Danielle could say anything, managing to make it out of the shop before laughing at the stunned looks on their faces.

“Oh man, those two need to just date already, get it over with,” Zayn said, to the general agreement of everyone gathered. “I’m going to WWW, though, I’ve already bought new boots for the next season. Niall?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you both later.”

“Hey, how do you know I don’t want to go to Weasley’s with you?” Harry asked indignantly – Niall grinned wickedly.

“Harry, I happen to know that you haven’t spent your birthday money from any of us yet. Ever.”

“There’s just nothing I want, really, Mum gives me plenty to get anything I want, you know...”

“So you’re not interested in the new Stargrazer broom then? Not even a little bit?” Harry stilled, turning instinctively towards the Quidditch shop – Niall laughed. “We’ll see you later, Styles.” They bounded off, and Eleanor dragged Harry towards Gringotts.

“Look at it, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she said, as the astounded employee began wrapping the broom up half an hour later. “I can’t get my hair to go that shiny, it’s practically _glowing_...”

“No person will ever compare,” Harry agreed. The employee raised her eyebrows, but this went unnoticed by both Harry and Eleanor, who couldn’t take their eyes off the broom. “You have to let me on the team now, because of this broom.”

“I was going to let you on anyway,” she said. “Our team sucks at the moment, I need to do a total shift of the players – get rid of some of them altogether... Keep Creevey, put him as a Beater maybe, he’s no good as Keeper, too small...”

“Excuse me?” The employee said. “Can I recommend ‘ _Diamond In The Rough: The Team That Could (Eventually)_ ’ by Oliver Wood? He talks about captaining the Gryffindor Quidditch team, you might be interested?” She led Eleanor off to look at the small stack of books, leaving Harry to ogle at his partially wrapped broom some more.

“What’re you doing in here?” Harry turned round – Tomlinson had walked into the shop.

“Buying a broom,” Harry replied. Tomlinson looked over his shoulder and sucked in a barely audible breath.

“ _Surely_ you can’t afford it?”

“Yeah,” Harry shrugged. “Been saving up a while.” Tomlinson frowned. “What’re you in here for?” The frown on his face was replaced by a look of confusion – he held out a small box.

“My GPS doesn’t work properly, I was hoping somebody here would be able to fix it.”

“GPS? That’s a Muggle thing, though.” Tomlinson glared, first at the box, then at Harry, and then at the floor; Harry fought hard not to laugh at his consternated expression.

“Yeah, so? It’s more useful than a compass – or, it’s _supposed_ to be, that’s what the Muggle Studies professor said, I just can’t turn the damn thing _on_.” Harry held out a hand.

“Want me to have a look?”

“Sure, go ahead, but I hardly expect _you_ of all people to understand why it isn’t-”

“Ah, yeah, needs batteries.”

“What?”

“Batteries, yeah, you need those, otherwise it won’t do anything. Also GPS tends to go by roads, rather than by air, because Muggles travel by road? You might want to try-” Louis rolled his eyes.

“Oh, who needs it anyway, I’ll be perfectly fine with a good old Wizard compass!” He stormed out of the shop – Harry stared at the swinging door.

“What an odd bloke,” he said aloud – Eleanor reappeared, clutching two books – the Wood and one about Quidditch robes through the ages.

“Who, you? Yeah, hate to break it to you, but you are pretty odd.”

“Screw you,” he laughed.

“Anywhere else you want to go? I think we’re going shopping tomorrow as well, but you can’t go to the ice cream parlour too many times while in Diagon Alley,” Eleanor said as the cashier tied off the parcel with string and handed it to Harry.

“I need to pop by Flourish and Blott’s again, there’s something I forgot to pick up earlier.”

“Want me to pick you up an ice cream?” Harry nodded, and Eleanor left the shop, her nose already in the robes book. Harry followed after her, laughing as she almost walked into a goblin.

A quick perusal of the shelves proved fruitless, but this was unsurprising – wizards didn’t conform to sensible things like the Dewey Decimal System, so books were just piled onto the shelves in no discernible order or system. After getting distracted by ‘ _Procrastination: Look At This Shiny Cover_ ’ for ten minutes, Harry eventually made his way to the till to ask for help.

“Navigation spells?” The witch said in response to his query. “‘Point Me’ is a pretty nifty spell... Are you lost, do you need me to Floo someone?”

“No, not like that... How do wizards make maps, do you have anything on mapography, mapology...?”

“Oh, you mean cartography?” Harry shrugged –he might’ve meant that. “We’ve got one on that, it might be useful... What exactly are you attempting to do here?” He explained his intentions, and she looked suitably impressed. “That’s some difficult work you’re taking on there, Muggle contraptions don’t take kindly to wizard interference...” She ripped a sheet of paper from the notepad next to the fireplace behind her and scribbled something down. “I’ll give you Arthur’s address, if you need any help he’d probably be happy to oblige... If you pop by Weasley’s down the road, Ron or George should be working now, they’re pretty good with Muggle things... Oh, you need your book, _Accio Ptolemy_!” A huge, dusty tome of a book flew over, landing with a thud on the desk; the witch covered her nose as clouds of dust rose into the air. “Khartes Ptolemy is the leading mind in creating wizard maps, if anyone can help you it’s him.” Harry thanked the witch, paid five Galleons for the book, and then left the shop, sneezing from the dust.

He expected to bump into Zayn or Niall in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, but it was empty aside from a lone child, who was carefully choosing sweets and putting them into a paper bag, and two red haired wizards – one sweeping the floor, the other, taller and lankier, apparently teaching himself to juggle.

“Shit!” He shouted out as he threw one of the balls into a jar. “George, tell the jar to give the ball back, it’s one of your Savings Jars!” The sweeping wizard, George, looked up from the floor with a grin.

“But the beauty of Savings Jars is that-”

“It won’t release the object until you need it, yeah, I know – well, guess what, I need it now, I can’t teach myself to juggle with two balls!” George leaned against the broom.

“Ronald, when did you become so obsessed with juggling, anyway?”

“Hermione’s worried about my foot-eye coordination or something – I tried telling her that I’m a wizard, this is what wands are for, but she was pretty insistent.” The jar suddenly spat the ball out with such force that it shattered one of the lights on the ceiling. “George, I think that jar is a dud. Or evil.”

“Um, hi, are you Ron and George Weasley?” The two wizards looked over at Harry.

“Yeah?”

“Can’t believe it, my name’s _still_ said second-”

“The witch at Flourish and Blotts said you’d be able to help me charm this.” He pulled out the still batteryless GPS.

“Have you put batteries in?” Ron said knowledgably.

“I know about the batteries, I’m Muggleborn,” Harry replied; Ron deflated.

“That’s pretty much all I know about fixing Muggle things.”

“I don’t want to fix it, I know how it works.” Harry paused, trying to think of the best way to word his problem. “I want it to act like a map that a wizard could attach to his broom, punch in where he wants to go and then follow the directions. Muggles use these” he held up the GPS “rather than compasses and maps and stuff.” George raised his eyebrows.

“Sounds like something the Marauders would attempt. Or Dad. The way I see it you need to use as little magic as possible, Muggle devices work better with little magic in them – have you ever been in a hairy-plain? I did, once, and they had this little screen that showed where we were in the sky, it was pretty cool.”

“So, if I find a charm that just shows the bird’s eye view of the route...” Harry mumbled – George left the room to go out the back, and Ron watched Harry muttering to himself curiously.

“Kid, are you a Ravenclaw?”

“What? Nah, Gryffindor.”

“Then why’re you doing this, doesn’t seem like a regular school summer project.”

“No, it’s a gift for... Someone.” He wasn’t sure when, exactly, he’d started planning gifts for Louis Tomlinson, but it wasn’t like he himself was going to use it.

“Well, we’ll keep an eye out for things that could help you – what’s your name?”

“Harry Styles.” Ron knocked his elbow on the desk, and looked towards the door George had left through, and then at the child who was still choosing sweets. He lowered his voice.

“Have you been paying attention to the news, Mr Styles?”

“The disappearances?” Ron nodded seriously.

“Rumour has it that there’s some nutjobs out there that are convinced the new Dark Lord is waiting in the wings, so they’re going round trying to give signs that there are people ready to welcome them.”

“Is there?” Ron shrugged.

“Dunno. There’s always _bad_ wizards, but _evil_? Not sure. Anyway, the point is, _some_ of these people are a little bit antsy that there’s a seventeen year old Gryffindor named Harry running around. You follow?” Harry blinked.

“You’re shitting me.”

“I watched my best friend stumble around for years because adults refused to tell him stuff, stuff that would’ve been pretty damn handy to know – let me get one thing straight, you’re _not_ a Chosen Hero or something like that, but... Keep your head down, try not to make too many enemies, don’t walk off on your own in deserted places. Sensible stuff, you know. There are some nutcases out there that’ll do anything to get you out of the picture.” Harry nodded, stunned. George walked out from the back.

“Dad’s not in at the moment – Mum wants us over for tea, by the way – but she said she’d get him to Floo you, kid, he’d probably be able to help. What’s your name?”

“Harry Styles,” Ron said pointedly – George looked from his brother to Harry, and then back again.

“You tell him?”

“Yes,” Ron said stoutly, to which George shrugged and said,

“I’d have done the same, let’s be honest. Just don't mention that to your wife.” He rummaged around on one of the shelves, and then held out a twinkling purple pouch. “Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, on the house. Usually we do a background check on people before we hand this stuff out, we’ve had some complaints in the past, but I figure you’re pretty trustworthy.”

***

Harry spent a sleepless night at the Leaky Cauldron, staring at the ceiling and listening to Zayn and Eleanor’s gentle snores for several hours before climbing out of bed, grabbing the GPS and the book, and heading downstairs to sit in the bar. Tom looked up upon his arrival from polishing a glass.

“Can’t sleep?” Harry shook his head. “Want me to brew you up a sleeping draught?” He shook his head again. “Ah, just as well, don’t want to end up dependent on the stuff. I knew a guy who built up an immunity to it, he drank some and couldn’t sleep for weeks, had to be admitted into St Mungos, screaming about pineapples under the sea or something.” He stopped to put away the glass. “You need anything, give me a yell, all right? I’m gonna turn in.”

“Thanks Tom,” Harry said absentmindedly, choosing a seat in the corner by the dwindling fire and opening up the book.

Ptolemy was, Harry decided after reading just a few pages of the introduction, the dullest writer to live, and he’d read _all_ of Bagshot’s work. The book didn’t even make mention of maps till page 25, and even that was just a brief mention in passing – it wasn’t until ‘Chapter 13: How To Find Your One Direction’ that the author finally began discussing how to make handmade maps.

“Of course,” the chapter began “hand made Maps will never be as good as a Map made by an Experienced Cartographer, but they are handy if one is in a situation without a professional Map.

“First, one must have an image of the area – Muggle Maps come especially in use here. The perks of Muggle Maps are they can be easily bought from any tourist centre (try to avoid talking to Guides, as they will encourage you to take Guided Trips with them that are very difficult to get out of – keep asking for a Map until they give you one, this is the best way to deal with Muggles), and because they are not electric, they are easily charmed to suit one’s needs. Simply use the derivative of ‘Homenum Revelio’, ‘ _Ego Locus_ ’ (Warning: may cause rashes if you are especially sensitive skinned – speak to your Healer), to reveal your own location on the Map (similarly replace ‘Ego’ with another’s name if required – this is especially useful for finding errant children).”

Harry grinned, ran up the stairs to his room, and dug out two batteries from the stash his mum made him keep in his suitcase at all times. Plugging them into the GPS and switching it on, he pointed his wand at the device.

“ _Louis Tomlinson Locus_ ,” he whispered. A dim light shone from his wand – the GPS vibrated slightly and then a little message came onto the screen.

“Location Unknown.”

“Shit.” He went back to the book, where Ptolemy continued on.

“Unfortunately, if one is using a Muggle Map, it is difficult to get suitable coordinates for Wizarding locations. If one wishes to do this, you must imbibe the knowledge of wizards within the Map itself. Common methods of doing so are to create Phantoms of the Self.”

“Are you going to _explain_ that?” Harry asked irritably, flicking through the book.

“Harry? Mate, what’re you doing up?” Harry looked around; Liam was standing at the door, in pyjamas that were an inch too small.

“You know when you just _need_ to know how to do something, and you can’t sleep, and there’s loads of other stuff on your mind?” Liam padded over in his slippers and sat next to Harry.

“What’s wrong? You looked distracted all through dinner.” Harry debated not telling him – he didn’t want him to worry, he did enough of that anyway – but eventually realised that keeping it to himself was probably going to drive him insane. Besides, the Weasleys hadn’t said he _shouldn’t_ tell anyone.

“Some psychos apparently think I’m the next Potter and want to off me. Also I’ve spent hours trying to figure out how to make a broom GPS, and I can’t because Muggle devices don’t have wizarding landmarks on them, and this book hasn’t explained the one thing that might actually be useful, something called ‘Phantoms of the Self’.”

“ _Well_ ,” Liam said heavily. “I’ve been kind of expecting the first one for a while now, and there’s nothing I can really do to help you with that...” He brightened. “I can help you with your other problem though!” He held out his hand for the GPS. “Remember those guys a few years above us who used to idolise the Marauders? They used to go on about this Map, that was supposedly a Map of Hogwarts, and I just assumed it was a load of rubbish because Hogwarts is Unplottable, right?”

“If you say so.”

“Well, I did some research on this back in like, fifth year, you just sort of-” he waved his wand like an eraser on top of the GPS screen, and then tapped it. “Okay, try now.”

“Uh... _Hogwarts Locus_?” And, sure enough, a little dot appeared on the screen, with tiny font proclaiming ‘Hogwarts’ next to it. “All right, cool, um, _Liam Payne Locus_!” This time, the screen zoomed out to show a map of the British Isles – a thread of blue light connected a dot labelled ‘Liam Payne’ in the south and ‘Hogwarts’ in the north. “Cool, it gave me directions!” As Liam walked around the Leaky Cauldron, the dot that said his name moved infinitesimally.

“ _Finite Incantatem_ ,” Liam said, pointing his wand at the screen – the map screen switched to the start menu. “Good, glad that worked. Now, go get some sleep, all right? We’ll talk more about the Potter thing in the morning.” Harry stood up, tucking the book under his arm.

“Yeah, good night, Liam.”

“Night, Harry.”


	3. Flashbacks, Bell Sleeves, and The Insurgents

Harry couldn’t remember falling asleep, but he didn’t feel rested at all when there was a frantic knocking on the door the next morning. Niall barrelled in, flopping down on top of Zayn who wheezed out an ‘Oof’ in shock.

“Can’t take it anymore, drowning in UST,” Niall said, his voice muffled against Zayn’s back. “They keep _looking_ at each other, it’s like being trapped in one of my mum’s shitty Muggle novels.”

“Muh?” Eleanor said eloquently.

“Exactly.” Harry wasn’t sure if Niall had actually discerned meaning from her statement, but he continued to speak as though he had. “I’ve told him over and over to just make a move, but he just turns that brilliant shade of red, the one that makes him look like a tomato-”

“Mate,” Zayn interrupted. “Is it before eleven?”

“Yeah, course it is!”

“Then stop speaking and let me sleep, it’s still the summer holidays and I want to treasure these last few days of lie ins. Basically, shut the hell up,” he said, burying his head under the pillow; Niall responded by pulling the blankets off of him.

“But we need to take Harry shopping! I bet he’s still never been down Knockturn Alley, there’s loads of really interesting places down there.”

“Weh?” Eleanor said, peering at Harry – he shrugged.

“Never got round to it,” he said. “I’ve only ever been up here with Mum, and I don’t want to worry her more than she already does.”

“See?” Niall exclaimed, sitting on top of Zayn’s thighs and bouncing up and down. “We _have_ to go!”

“This is the _only_ time you’re getting me out of bed before eleven, Horan, alright?” Zayn said irritably, flinging the pillow at Niall and sitting up, the movement causing Niall to topple to the floor. “Never again. Eleanor, wake up, we need to introduce Harry to the big bag world of Knockturn Alley.” Eleanor yawned widely, her jaw cracking with the motion.

“In the interests of corruption, I will join you,” she said, sitting up and rubbing her face. “Go get Danielle and Liam then, let’s go on a field trip.”

As opposed to the previous night, no one seemed to be in a rush to go anywhere, so it was a full hour before the six were leaving the Leaky Cauldron, blinking blearily at the bright sunlight.

“Is it really that interesting?” Harry asked Liam – Liam had been firmly against the idea from the beginning, and had only agreed to accompany them in order to keep them out of trouble.

“Not really?” He shrugged; they both fell silent for a moment, listening to Niall talk about some hag he’d met down the Alley once. “Most of the shops have been boarded up now, and the ones that are open are subject to daily Ministry checks, so I don’t see why-”

“Haven’t you ever been in an abandoned house before?” Eleanor asked. “We know there isn’t _really_ going to be anything exciting there, but it’s the fact that it’s got all this scary history.”

“And the vampires that walk around,” Niall put in – Danielle looked curious.

“I’ve never met a vampire before – I read that article about them in The Quibbler, but I don’t really think that’s the same as meeting one...”

“Why would you want to meet one?” A voice called out – Harry heard Niall groan loudly.

“I swear to God he’s _following us_ ,” he said exasperatedly as Tomlinson rounded the corner out of Knockturn Alley.

“‘Following’ sort of implies that I’d be going in the same direction as you. As you can see, I have come from the _opposite_ direction,” Tomlinson said dramatically, waving his arm. “But yes, vampires, nasty buggars, would much sooner kill you than kiss you.”

“Why, because I’m a Muggleborn?” Danielle said fiercely; an odd expression crossed over Louis’ face, and just as soon as Harry caught it, it slid away.

“No, because you have a pulse. Now, if you’ll excuse me!” He sidestepped them and walked away, pulling the hood of his cloak up over his head, despite the heat of the day.

“Oh, damn, I forgot to pick up my wallet,” Harry said suddenly, a spark of inspiration hitting him with the force of the Knight Bus.

“Want me to come with you to pick it up?” Liam offered – Harry shook his head.

“Nah, I’ll be fine, I’ll catch up,” he replied, already speed walking back the way they’d come.

As he’d predicted, he walked quickly enough to catch up to Tomlinson, who looked pretty shocked to see him, especially alone.

“What can I do for you, little Gryffindor?” Harry didn’t point out that he’d long overtaken Tomlinson in the height stakes.

“I need to show you something, back at the Leaky Cauldron.”

“Eh?” His eyebrows raised phenomenally. “Is this some ploy to catch me by surprise, are all your little friends going to jump out at me? Let me guess, Horan’s going to use the Leg-Locker Curse, _jeez_ , why can’t he just get over that already.”

“Nope, just me, Scouts honour.”

“What the hell’s a ‘scout’, some kind of animal?” Harry laughed, and the Slytherin just frowned. “Are you literally talking to me just to mock me? Harsh, Styles.”

“No, honestly, I have something to show you – remember that GPS you showed me yesterday?”

“Well, yes, I did show it to you _yesterday_ , there’s enough room in my brain for less important memories too-”

“I fixed it.” In the six years he’d known Louis Tomlinson, this was the first time Harry had ever seen him look truly flabbergasted.  Taking advantage of this, Harry subtly changed their course for the Leaky Cauldron.

“You mean you put those Muggle flatteries in it?”

“No, I mean, you can stick it to your broom and it’ll give you directions and stuff. I even got it to show Hogwarts and Diagon Alley and everywhere else on the map.” Tomlinson smiled widely, and then caught himself and rearranged his expression into a subtly impressed one.

“Nice. Care to show me your work?”

“That was the whole idea, yeah,” Harry said, trying not to laugh. There was something strange about Tomlinson – he could understand why his friends didn’t like him, but he was interesting, he never reacted the way you thought he would.

“This isn’t just some subtle ploy to get me into your bed? I assure you, I’m not that kind of girl,” Tomlinson said – Harry barked out a laugh, shocking the Slytherin yet again.

“Don’t worry, I’m not either, you can wait at the door if you think I’m going to besmirch your virtue, Louis.” He nodded to Tom behind the bar, who grinned back.

“Ooh, look at you, Mr ‘I’ve swallowed a Dict-’ – wait, you called me Louis.”

“And you called me Mr ‘I’ve Swallowed A Dick’, so.” He hadn’t _meant_ to call him Louis, but Harry had never been too good at the whole Gryffindor versus Slytherin rivalry – he’d had a few friends in Slytherin, he didn’t really care what house people were in. “Here,” he continued, handing the GPS to Louis, who had decided to walk into Harry’s room after all. He turned it over in his hands cautiously, as though he was afraid of breaking it. “Flick the switch.”

“I knew _that_...” He said, nevertheless taking a moment to find the switch to turn the device on. “Okay, now what?”

“Oh, I wrote all the spells and stuff down, hang on...” In the space of 24 hours their shared room had turned into a garbage heap, and it took Harry making a dangerous foray into a pile of unwashed clothing (“I can see why you were sorted into Gryffindor,” Louis had said as Harry emerged with one of Eleanor’s bras on his head) to find the scrap of parchment, crumpled up in yesterday's jeans pocket.

“Wow, your handwriting is horrendous, I can’t... What the hell is ‘ _Fidget In Cantattum_ ’? Is it some sort of dance?”

“What? No, that says _Finite Incantatem,_ you prat. Here, look, I’ll show you-” Harry ran the GPS through its paces, finishing by showing Louis the flight path he’d have to take to get to Hogwarts from where he was stood.

“That’s... Shit, that’s fantastic,” Louis said in awe, running his fingers over the screen. “Seriously, I know a lot of people who’d pay good money for this.”

“That wouldn’t be fair though, all I did was charm something that’d already been invented...” Harry said, scratching the back of his neck. Louis rolled his eyes.

“ _Such_ a Gryffindor.” He handed back the GPS.

“Nah, keep it, I don’t fly much, prefer Floo. I mean, I fly for Quidditch and stuff, but I get a numb bum if I sit on a broom for too long...” Louis blinked.

“You what? You want me to-”

“Keep it, yeah. You wanted a map for your broom, right? There’s one.” He blinked again, and then scrambled in his back pocket.

“At least let me pay you, you aren’t getting away with giving me gifts Styles-”

“I’ve already told you, all I did was charm a Muggle object, it wouldn’t be right if I took money for it! Like, imagine if I charmed a vacuum cleaner, I wouldn’t ask for money just because I got it to move around on its own!” At Louis’s confused look Harry explained the concept of a Muggle vacuum cleaner.

“Oh, right, yeah, someone’s already done that – made them pretty rich, too.”

“You’re _kidding_? Wow, that’s really lazy!”

“That’s my parents you’re talking about, inventors of the Tommo cleaner, for those without a House Elf!” He kept his face straight for a moment, and then snorted. “Nah, that’s not true. Well, the bit about charming the cleaner thing is, but that’s not how my family made its money.”

“How _did_ your family make its money?” Harry asked curiously.

“Pure-blood fortune,” Louis said mysteriously. “Which is fancy talk for ‘my ancestors were greedy shits in the past and now their descendants are lazily reaping the benefits. Which reminds me, I’ve got places to be,” he said suddenly. “Nice talking to you, Styles, but I-”

“Harry.”

“...Sure, nice talking to you. Harry. Whatever.”

***

“Where the hell have you _been_ , you’ve been gone half an hour! Liam and Danielle were getting worried!” Niall said, running up to Harry when he eventually returned to his friends, who were waiting some distance away from Knockturn Alley. Harry grimaced apologetically at the two of them – if Liam had figured out the whole Potter thing, odds were Danielle was on the same page, and it had probably worried them, him not returning promptly.

“Ran into Lo – Tomlinson.” No one aside from Liam seemed to catch his slip-up, and all he did was shoot Harry a bemused look.

“You bleeding anywhere? Not going to sprout sheep’s balls from your cheeks?” Zayn asked, getting up close to feel Harry’s forehead with the back of his hand.

“I’m fine, really, let’s get going!” The other five looked at him, and it wasn’t until then that Harry realised they were all looking pretty pale and shocked. “What happened?”

“They did a Ministry raid,” Eleanor said quietly, once it was apparent that no one else was willing to recall the events. “They found this... This _guy_ who was ranting and raving, shooting spells in every direction, some little girl almost got hit by a jinx that blasted a hole in Gambol and Japes...”

“There were Aurors everywhere, so it must’ve been more than just some idiot, they must be pretty worried. They’ve closed off Knockturn Alley, no one’s allowed in or out...” The group slowly began to make their way back to the main street; Liam pulled Harry to a standstill.

“We’ll catch up,” he said to the other four, who turned around to look at them confusedly. “I need to go dress robe shopping, makes no sense for all of us to go.”

“I need to go to the Apothecary anyway,” Danielle said slowly, frowning at Liam before nodding slightly – Harry got the impression they could read each other’s minds, sometimes. “Come on, guys, I need strong arms to help me carry a year’s supply of eel tails.”

“We’re not really going dress robe shopping, are we?” Harry said as soon as the others were out of sight.

“Yes,” Liam said absentmindedly. “But I did want to talk to you about some stuff.” He paused for a moment, as though unsure how to word his thoughts. “The Aurors kept asking this guy if he knew anything about the Insurgents, and he kept screaming and yelling about the Chosen One being reborn – should’ve seen the look on Harry Potter’s face, man...”

“Harry Potter was here?”

“Yeah? He is head of the Auror Office, you know. He tried to politely explain that the original Chosen One wasn’t actually dead, but this guy... It was like he wasn’t actually there, it was pretty scary, so in the end they had to stun him.”

“Sounds like I missed all the action,” Harry said irritably – he’d never actually seen a proper dual between adult wizards before, even if this one did sound particularly lopsided. At his statement, Liam looked at him sternly.

“That’s a thought – where were you?” He considered lying, but as he was pretty sure that Liam could read minds, there’d be little to no point.

“That GPS thing, I was only fiddling with it because Louis Tomlinson showed it to me yesterday. I wanted to make it work, and then obviously we _did_ get it to work, so I caught up with him and gave it back.” Liam nodded carefully.

“And how long have you been on first name and gift giving terms with Tomlinson? Don’t think I didn’t catch your slip-up earlier.”

“Since this morning, I guess. I don’t know, Li, he seems like a decent guy, once you get past all the Slytherin bluster.”

“Maybe he is,” Liam said, shrugging. “I’m just going by some of the stuff I’ve heard from Zayn, that’s all.”

***

“Good evening, Mrs Malik,” Harry said politely, emerging from the Knight Bus with his suitcase in tow. Originally the plan had been for his mum to drive him up to Zayn’s house, but something had come up at the last minute (“It’s _fine_ , Mum, honestly, I’ve taken the Knight Bus before!”

This was a lie. Harry had never taken the Knight Bus, and had not been prepared to be thrown around like a popcorn kernel. He had exited the bus battered, bruised, and roughly the colour of cottage cheese.)

“Harry, dear,” Zayn’s mother said, taking his face in her hands. “You look awfully peaky. Are you going to be okay with Apparating to the house?”

“I’ll be fine, thank you.” She nodded, and took his suitcase from him.

“We have to walk a bit first, we shouldn’t really Apparate in a Muggle city, sets a bad example.” Harry vaguely remembered Zayn telling him that his mother was the head of some department at the Ministry, so it would stand to reason that she would be more inclined to toe the line of the law. “How was your second year? I only got to see you briefly at King’s Cross, we had to leave as soon as possible...”

“It was good,” Harry said – he made the split second decision to not tell the story of how Niall had gotten stuck in the first floor girl’s toilet. “We picked our subjects to study next year-”

“Yes, Zayn mentioned that,” she said, pursing her lips slightly. “What did you choose?”

“Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures?” Harry said, feeling like he was taking part in a test – apparently he passed, because Mrs Malik smiled warmly.

“Yes, those are good subjects to choose, both very useful... If only Zayn could’ve taken on some of your common sense! Honestly, you’d think being raised by two magical parents would have given him an idea as to what subjects would be suitable to choose, but he’s only gone and chosen Muggle Studies and Divination!” She held her hands up. “Not that there’s anything _wrong_ with those subjects, but they’re both quite... _Soft_. Now, _Arithmancy_ , that’s a _proper_ wizarding subject!” Harry suddenly remembered that Mrs Malik was a retired Curse-Breaker, now working in Goblin Liasoning.

She held out her arm. “Come on then, here should be a good place.”

It was purely the shock of Apparating for the first time that stopped Harry from vomiting everywhere – which was just as well, because Liam, Zayn and Niall were waiting for him in the Malik’s garden, and they would have been spectacularly splattered if he had been sick.

“Wow, you look like shit,” Zayn said cheerfully, giving Harry a friendly punch on the arm.

“Language!” Mrs Malik admonished, flicking him on the ear.

“Sorry, Mum.” Zayn turned to look at Harry sincerely. “Wow, you look like you’ve got Dragon pox, your face is horrendous.”

“Thanks, mate,” Harry said.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just a bit cranky,” Liam said confidentially, lowering his voice to a whisper.

“Can you _blame_ me?” Zayn said, turning to glare at his mother’s retreating back. “She hasn’t _stopped_ talking about my subjects since I accidentally told her them. It doesn’t help that I scored fourth in the year, either, apparently I’m ‘bringing dishonour to everything’.”

“She hasn’t been _that_ bad,” Niall said reasonably. “Besides, you were always going to get beaten by Liam and Danielle, that’s just how it works.”

“Yeah, but _Tomlinson_ was just the icing on the cake.” Zayn adopted a falsetto voice. “‘Where _is_ that nice boy, why don’t you invite him round for tea one day, I saw his mother in Diagon Alley the other week, she told me to say hello, blah blah _blah’._ Nightmare, it’s been.”

“It’s only been a few hours since she found all that out, she’ll have forgotten this in a week,” Niall said, his voice catching slightly – Zayn looked over at him.

“Oh, wait, I didn’t mean to-”

“No, I know, I wasn’t-”

“Right, seriously?” Harry said irritably. “I think it’s about time you explained _what_ happened between you lot and Tomlinson, I’ve waited long enough!”

“Wait,” Liam said, frowning confusedly, “we never told you?”

“No.”

“Oh, I thought... I swear we did!”

“Trust me, you didn’t. I’ve been politely waiting for someone to fill me in, but it’s been two years and no one’s _told_ me yet.”

“I wasn’t actually there...” Liam said awkwardly. “So it wouldn’t be in my place to pass judgement...” Niall shifted in place, staying quiet.

“Me and Tomlinson used to be best friends,” Zayn said wearily. “I’ll get that out the way now, because when you go in our house it’s like a shrine to infant photos of him and me, it's proper weird. And then I got introduced to Nialler here, and Tomlinson... I dunno, he just got really jealous, I think? Before we came to Hogwarts – like, the night before – I caught him trying to get Niall to make an Unbreakable Vow about something, but neither of them will tell me what it is – I assumed it was bad,” he glanced over to Niall, who just shrugged. “Told him to get out, that we weren’t friends anymore. Mum just thinks it’s a petty kids fight – Dad’s got a better idea though.”

True to his word, the Malik’s front hall was plastered in framed photos of children who were unmistakeably younger versions of Zayn, Niall and Tomlinson – Harry looked over to Liam.

“Where do you come in, then?”

“My Dad’s related to the Maliks through some really distant pure-blood line, so I’d heard about Zayn, and you can’t pick up a newspaper without seeing _one_ of the Horan’s in it – I met Zayn in Ollivander’s, and Niall on the train.”

“So you met Tomlinson...”

“We’re actually more closely related to the Tomlinsons than the Maliks, so I’d met him when we were really little... I don’t know, he seemed decent enough? But...” He shot Niall a glance, who was too busy talking to Zayn’s father to notice. “ _Something_ happened, something bad enough to get on Zayn’s bad side, so I guess I’m on their side of whatever went down.”

***

“Well,” Harry conceded. “All right. Obviously I don’t blindly trust the guy, but he’s never been overly threatening to me – it’s kind of like watching a puppy with a Napoleon Complex, if I’m honest.”

“Just try not to get bitten,” Liam said – Harry waggled his eyebrows. “Not like _that_ , you dirty buggar, I was just trying to carry on your metaphor.”

The two were in Madam Malkin’s – and had been for some time, by this point – and Harry had gotten bored of suggesting sensible robes for Liam’s perusal. He pulled out a set of velvet robes in a fetching shade of plum. “What about these?” Liam looked over, obviously ready to consider them seriously.

“Bell sleeves?” He wrinkled his nose. “ _Really_?”

“Li,” Harry said exasperatedly. “These robes are bright purple and made of velvet, and your immediate complaint is that they have _bell sleeves_?” He put them back on the rack. “Why do you need dress robes, anyway?”

“Because I’m sick of wearing my dad’s, and McGonagall’s thinking of starting a tradition of a yearly Yule Ball, so now’s as good a time as any to buy some.”

“Wasn’t that a Triwizard Tournament thing?” Harry asked. There’d only been one Tournament while they’d been at school – during their fifth year, Beauxbatons had offered to hold the event.

According to the few students who had gone, it had been an unmitigated disaster. Matt, a seventh year Gryffindor at the time, had chronicled it in long letters to his best friend Aiden, who’d taken great delight in reading paragraphs aloud in the Common Room.

The whole debacle had been a mixture of paranoia and one-upmanship – the Hogwarts students were only allowed to compete if the tasks passed stringent Ministry safety checks, resulting in some of the most boring tasks in History. The Beauxbatons champion had been pulled out of school the night before the first task, resulting in pandemonium, and the Durmstrang champion had actually lost his wand halfway through the second task. The only thing that had apparently been remotely enjoyable was the Yule Ball, and Harry expected that to be solely due to the existence of the Beauxbatons girls.

“Yeah, but the Ministry vetoed a mini-Tournament, and McGonagall recommended that Danielle and I try to organise an event – looks better on job applications.” Liam shrugged, pulling out some sky blue robes and holding them up. “Too blue?”

“Too ‘Muggle Prom’,” Harry agreed. “I didn’t pack mine, I’ll have to remember to ask Mum to mail them up to me.” They eventually found a set of robes that were bell sleeve and velvet free, and after a few minor adjustments from Madam Malkin they left the shop.

“I feel like a pincushion,” Liam complained rubbing his arm, which was nicked all over. “Who else knows?”

“About what, you feeling like a pincushion?”

“No, about you. And your... Situation,” Liam said delicately, looking at the other shoppers suspiciously.

“Danielle’s probably figured it out, but no one else.”

“You should tell them.”

“I didn’t want to worry them.”

“I think they’ll be more worried if you get kidnapped out of your own bravery and stupidity, to be honest.”

The other four were sat in the bar when they got back to the Leaky Cauldron, along with some Ministry workers at the next table and a hooded wizard at the bar itself. Tom waved at them as they walked in, and the hooded wizard inclined his head slightly. The Ministry workers, meanwhile, started whispering amongst themselves.

As Harry and Liam drew closer to the table their friends were sat at, they found that they were hunched around an issue of the _Evening Prophet_ , talking in low, worried voices.

“What’s happened?” Harry asked – everyone looked up guiltily.

“Oh, hi Harry!” Eleanor said, not so subtly leaning her entire upper body over the newspaper. “How’re things?”

“If this is about the people who want to kill me, don’t worry, I already know.” Everyone breathed an audible sigh of relief, sitting back in their seats. The headline of the paper said ‘ _Dark Wizards or Crackpots? Skirmish at Knockturn Alley!_ ’ There was a photo of the damage caused to Gambol and Japes. Below this was a smaller headline – ‘ _The Insurgents Target New Harry Potter?_ ’

“We were going to keep it from you,” Niall explained. “Didn’t want you to worry...” He pushed the paper closer to Harry.

‘ _Despite Harry Potter being very much alive and kicking – turn to page 4 for an interview on the upcoming birth of his third child with wife and Quidditch correspondent Ginny Potter – the Insurgents have found a new ‘Chosen One’, despite there being no evidence to support their claims._

_Harry Styles, a Hogwarts student about to start his sixth year, has been the focus of much Insurgent propaganda, with suggestions that he will be the next Harry Potter. These idealists plan to remove Styles, in the hopes that this will bring about the third coming of the Dark Lord. More on page 12.’_

“They said you were a sixth year rather than seventh, but they got everything else right,” Danielle said worriedly. “Which makes me think they’ve been planning this story for a while. They talk about how these... Insurgents think there are too many similarities between you and Harry Potter to let it slide...”

“Yeah, that’s what the Weasleys told me,” Harry said thoughtfully. “Gryffindor seventh year and all that. Shame I can’t duel to save my life.”

“Hey, how long have you _known_ about this?” Zayn said, crossing his arms.

“Since yesterday afternoon?”

“And you let us take you to Knockturn Alley?” Niall exclaimed. “Are you _insane_ , or do you just have a thing for capture, torture, and death?!”

“I didn’t want to be ‘that guy’ – ‘Sorry, guys, I’m not allowed anywhere, some nutters are out for my head – how’s about we go to the bookshop all day, that’ll be nice and safe and boring?’”

“Harry,” Danielle said gently, pulling Harry down into the seat next to her and scratching his head with her fingernails. “We’d much rather you were safe.”

“Knockturn Alley isn’t that great, anyway,” Eleanor said dismissively. “Just a load of hags and cobwebs everywhere, and we could get the same effect at my house.” Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed the occupants of the next table over watching them curiously. He kicked Zayn gently under the table, and flicked his eyes towards them. Within a few moments of subtle kicking and glancing, everyone became aware of the neighbouring table.

“Have you done the Arithmancy homework yet?” Danielle said, her hand stilling in Harry’s hair, and then pulling it gently towards the stairs – the people on the next table were openly staring at Harry.

“No, not yet.”

“We’ll go do that now, then,” she said, standing up and positioning herself between the Ministry workers and Harry. Everyone else rose too, and nonchalantly formed a barrier around Harry, who found himself getting increasingly antsy – these psychos weren’t after them, they were after _him_ , there was no need for his friends to be putting themselves in danger like this.

They had almost made it to the top of the stairs – a difficult feat in itself, considering how tightly packed together they were – when they heard Tom call out “I’m sorry, upstairs is off limits except to paying guests!” Harry turned around – sure enough, the people – 3 men and a woman – had stood up to follow them.

“Can it, old man,” the woman said, her voice low and raspy. “Do you know how much the boss is paying for that kid’s curly head?” Harry watched in horror as she pulled out her wand – he was halfway between pushing to the front with his own wand when the hooded wizard at the bar stood up.

“Is there a problem, Tom?” he said genially. Harry noticed that one of his hands was hidden up his sleeve.

“Nothing that concerns you, pretty boy,” one of the men said gruffly – he had hair like dried, sparse grass.

“If you’re threatening children then yes, it is my problem,” the hooded wizard said politely. “Wait, don’t all of you work in the Centaur Liasoning department?”

“Told you we should’ve worn masks.”

“Here’s an idea.” The hooded wizard walked to the foot of the stairs, blocking the gang from passing. “You get past me, you can do whatever you want.”

“Four against one?” The witch said gleefully.

“I suppose I shall just have to do my best,” he replied gravely. “Ladies first?”

“Stupefy!” she called out – the wizard blocked her attack almost lazily. “Stupefy! _Stupefy_!” Each attack was as unsuccessful as the first – even when her comrades joined in, every shot either missed by a long way or was blocked.

“I have a confession,” the wizard said easily to no one in particular, dodging an especially weak Leg-Lock Curse. “I’m not actually left-handed.” He passed his wand from left hand to right and the battle began anew, neat stunning and incarceration spells incapacitating all but one of his opponents, the low voiced witch.

“Crucio!” She yelled – the spell shot wide, blasting a hole in the stairs, narrowly missing Harry’s foot – the wizard turned around.

“Get him out of the way!” he shouted – his friends pulled him further up the stairs, as Harry was too stunned with awe to move.

“Crucio!” This time her spell came closer to the mark, close enough for it to blow off the man’s hood. “ _Shit_.”

“You could say that.”

“Is that-” Niall hissed.

“Holy shit he’s hotter in person,” Eleanor said, putting her chin in her hands.

“People genuinely think I’m _his_ prodigy?” Harry said incredulously.

“I don’t see it myself,” Zayn agreed, punctuating his statement with a punch in the air as Harry Potter landed a stunning jinx right on the witch’s face.

“Are you all okay?” Potter said instantly.

“I think I’ve got a splinter on my-”

“We’re fine, thank you, sir,” Liam said hastily, shooting Niall a glare that screamed ‘do _not_ embarrass me’.

“Would you mind helping me clean up?” Potter said, glancing around sheepishly. “I probably went a bit overboard, and-”

“Harry _Potter_!” It took Harry a second to recognise that it was Hermione Granger who had just stormed through the door, as she was dressed in plain robes with her hair flying everywhere. “Tom just Flooed me, what the _hell_?”

“It wasn’t _intentional_! I meant to take them out quietly, but I haven’t had a good duel in _months_!”

“Merlin's beard, the whole point was to _not_ alarm them – or the public! This is going to be all over the Prophet tomorrow, they’ve already caught wind of Knockturn Alley today, imagine if he finds _out_!”

“Um, sorry,” Harry said. “If this is about people wanting me dead, I already knew.” Potter and Granger turned to stare at him. “Ron Weasley told me?”

“I am going to murder him,” Granger said simply. She turned to Potter. “Send your weakest Aurors after me, I’m getting on a bit.”

“Oh, please, if I can still take out four Ministry workers without breaking a sweat, you can too.” Granger looked at the attackers curiously.

“Ministry workers?”

“Not very high up,” Potter admitted. “But I don’t think they’ve been Imperiused, either. We might want to ask that department some questions, see if we can get any leads...” He turned to Harry. “Kid, what’re your plans before you go back to Hogwarts?”

“We go back on Monday,” he said. “So we were just going to do some last minute shopping?”

“Groups of three,” Potter said. “Don’t wander off the beaten track. You know, simple stuff.”

“Oh, the irony,” Granger said with a smirk. “If they only knew about how well _you_ used to listen to adult advice.”

“Not helping.”

“Speaking of advice, your wife is going to skin you alive when you get home, you interrupted our film night,” Granger said nonchalantly, waving her wand to easily restore the room to its former glory. “I did warn you not to get into trouble.”

“I didn’t get into trouble, people just assume I can’t do anything without your help!”

“That’s because you _can’t_ , Harry. Tom, mind if we use your fireplace to Floo home?” Tom had reappeared behind the bar.

“Not at all, Hermione, I’ll shut early so these kids don’t get into any more trouble.”

“It was hardly _our_ fault,” Niall grumbled quietly – Liam stood on his foot.

“We’ll go up to bed,” he said, pulling Niall after him – Danielle, who had been walking away, stopped and turned to Granger.

“Quick question; those tickets, did I _really_ get them for making Quidditch Captain, or did you give them to my Mum so you could keep an eye on Harry?” Granger shifted guiltily.

“A little of both? In my defence I didn’t know Mr Styles would be accompanying you until after I had offered the tickets, but I admit I did want to meet you and your friends, to make sure you all seemed trustworthy.” Eleanor nodded thoughtfully, and pulled Harry away.

“You were staring,” she muttered under her breath, waving to Potter and Granger, who waved back bemusedly.

“Can you blame me?” Harry said. “I’ve never _seen_ duelling like that, do you think they’d give me lessons?”

“Harry, that’s like, advanced stuff, it took you months to master ‘Expelliarmus’.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably should've realised that having two characters called 'Harry' was going to be potentially problematic.  
> Quick note - I know next to nothing about the boys families (an intentional decision on my part), so obviously their families here are not going to fully resemble their families in real life. I just figured it'd be weird if there were seven orphans running around Hogwarts.  
> Weirder than One Direction being at Hogwarts, anyway.


	4. An Illicit Deal, And A Confession

The morning of their final day of vacation dawned cloudy, as though the weather was lamenting the change of seasons. Harry rubbed his face and sat up – Eleanor was already awake, avidly reading through her Wood book.

“ _Surely_ it isn’t that interesting,” Harry said.

“Yes, and don’t call me Shirley,” she replied absentmindedly, turning the page. “He recommends keeping your broom as clean as possible, so I want to head by Quality Quidditch Supplies again, pick up a broom tending kit, I’ve been using hand wash on mine...”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t do that,” Zayn said sleepily, apparently awoken by Eleanor’s improper broom care. “Can strip the wood of its natural oils, makes it more brittle.” He sat up too, his hair falling over his forehead. “I need to go too, my boots keep shrieking whenever I put my feet near them.”

“I shriek when you put your feet near me too,” Harry said, which prompted Zayn to jump out of bed and on top of Harry, waving his feet in his face.

“Hey, wait, shut up a second, do you hear that?” Eleanor said, shutting her book and holding up a hand. Zayn and Harry stilled.

“Mate,” Zayn said, smirking. “Your morning wood seems happy to see me.”

“That’s my _wand_ , you dick.”

“You frequently sleep with your wand?”

“Guys, shut _up_!” After a few moments of silence, Harry heard it – a banging, coming from several rooms down. “Come on, get up, we have to _investigate_.”

“This isn’t a _Famous Five_ novel,” Harry said irritably, but it was difficult to make witty Muggle references in front of two purebloods. He put his slippers on anyway, and the three of them shuffled down the hall, Zayn still wrapped up in his duvet.

“Hey,” Eleanor said slowly, staring at the door they’d come to a stop in front of. “Isn’t this the others’ room?” Sure enough, the rhythmical banging was coming from inside. Zayn snorted.

“‘Bout time, too.” He was prevented from saying anything further by Liam shouting,

“ _Niall_!”

“...Well, that was unexpected,” Eleanor said weakly.

“Maybe it’s a threesome?” Harry asked. Apparently he had said that louder than he’d thought; the banging stopped, and the door opened to reveal Liam, clad only in a towel.

“This... _Really_ isn’t what it looks like,” Liam said quickly, flushing bright red; Danielle popped up behind him, fully dressed.

“Hi, everyone! ...What?”

“Were you just... Watching them?” Eleanor said, as Zayn and Harry tried to smother their giggles.

“What? Well, of course I was, I don’t really think Liam needed my help!”

“He had it covered, then?” Harry said.

“I’d imagine so, strapping lad like Liam,” Zayn said – the three of them burst, unable to contain their laughter any more. Liam leaned over to Danielle and whispered in her ear – she blushed heavily too.

“It wasn’t – that’s not what happened!”

“Niall stole my clothes and locked himself in our bathroom!”

“Hi Niall!” Eleanor called out cheerfully.

“Did it work?” Niall called back.

“No, sadly not,” Harry called back.

“What’re you _talking_ about?” Liam asked confusedly.

“One day,” Niall said, “you will understand, and it’ll be a great day for all involved, but especially for me, because if it’s this year then I win the bet.”

“Nah, Horan, got another year left,” Eleanor said cheerfully – Harry huffed, having bet on Liam and Danielle getting together during their sixth year. The year had been filled with his increasingly desperate attempts to get them together.

***

“ _Well_ ,” Liam said irritably, threading a belt through his trousers. “Now that _that’s_ over and done, where’re we all heading today?”

“Me, Eleanor and Zayn are heading to Quality Quidditch Supplies again,” Harry said, trying not to laugh at Liam’s indignant face.

“I wanted to go to-”

“Niall, unless you want my wand up your nose, please don’t speak for a little while longer.”

“We can all go there then, and then after we can pick up some stationary and stuff – I need a new quill, and I know for a fact that you’re running low on ink,” Danielle said to Liam “because in your last letter your black ink was turning grey.”

“Sounds good,” Eleanor said. “But do you want to split up? We’ll go Quidditch shopping – we’ll bring Niall too, he doesn’t talk about replacing brooms with those Muggle Hoomers or whatever –you and Liam can go quill shopping, then we can meet at Fortesque’s?”

“But we’re supposed to stay in groups of three...” Danielle said worriedly.

“No, _I’m_ supposed to stay in a group of three,” Harry pointed out. “You lot can do whatever you like.” Danielle still looked worried, so Eleanor leaned over and put her hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of the little kitten.”

“Come _on,_ I’m at least half a foot taller than you!” Harry said, crossing his arms and frowning; Zayn poked his cheeks.

“But you frown like _that_.”

They parted ways from Liam and Danielle with a wave, and Niall sighed exasperatedly.

“I couldn’t take it anymore, they kept looking at each other and sighing, I had to do _something_!” He said, waving his arms in the air.

“None of us blame you,” Harry said. “A lesser man would’ve broken long before now.”

“I’d slip them Veritaserum, except that’s very illegal, and drugging my Head Boy and Girl might not be the best idea – have to keep an eye on my Quidditch Captain privileges. You know I get to use the Prefects’ bathroom now?” Eleanor said with glee, rubbing her hands together. “Danielle snuck me in there once, it was like Bath Valhalla.”

“Think of the rest of us mere mortals, then, stuck in commoners’ bathrooms as you lord it up in the mythical Prefects’ bathroom,” Niall said.

“It is pretty fantastic in there,” Zayn said. “After every Quidditch practice last year I’d go in there, because there was this third year on our team that _really_ stressed me out-”

“The Beater?” Zayn nodded.

“Yeah, he was terrible, I had to do most of the work myself. I might put a cap on Beater age this year, fifth years and up...”

“Wood said you should try to get a pair of twins, or siblings, or really good friends,” Eleanor said. “Helps them work in sync.”

“Unless Liam suddenly develops a need to be on the team, there’s not really anyone in Ravenclaw I’m ‘in sync’ with,” Zayn said. “Our team’s gonna be _shocking_ this year, most of our good players left last year.”

“I’ve already decided most of Gryffindor’s,” Eleanor said. “Which you’re not _technically_ supposed to do, but unless there’s some really good people who haven’t tried out yet, I can’t see me picking many others.”

“Hey,” Niall said, pointing. “Isn’t that Tomlinson? He _is_ following us!”

“He’s probably just staying in Diagon Alley too,” Harry said reasonably. “Who’s he talking to?” He was standing at the foot of the steps to Gringotts, talking to a white-blonde wizard.

“He looks familiar...” Zayn said slowly. “I think he works at the Ministry?” He shrugged, and led the way into Quality Quidditch Supplies.

“Back again?” The employee asked incredulously, eyeing up Harry and Eleanor.

“Yeah,” Eleanor said. “I need a broom cleaning kit, got any suggestions?”

“I’m gonna go look at the posters,” Niall said vaguely – Niall hadn’t flown a broom since the disastrous first year lessons, wherein he’d crashed his broom into the Whomping Willow, and had nearly knocked his teeth out.

“Can you help me with my boots? They yell at me whenever I put my feet near them...”

Harry ambled off towards the accessories, matching his hands up to the gloves to try to find a pair that would actually fit.

“Those are Seeker gloves,” a voice said behind him. “You want the ones with arm guards.” An arm reached past him to point to the longer gloves, which were just out of the arm’s reach.

“Oh, thanks,” Harry said, leaning over to pick out the gloves. “Wait, how did you know I was looking for – oh, hi Louis!” Louis smiled at him awkwardly.

“I saw you earlier,” he waved his hand vaguely towards the street. “Thought I’d come over and thank you for the GPS help – I used it this morning, and I didn’t end up in Wales, so I assume it worked.”

“Oh, no problem,” Harry said. “Don’t get me wrong, Liam did most of the work-”

“But he probably didn’t do it for me, did he?” Louis said shrewdly; Harry shrugged. “Yeah, that’s why I’m thanking you. I don’t know, a lot of other people would’ve just figured it out and then rubbed it in my face, but you didn’t.” He looked at Harry, as though he was trying to figure him out, so Harry shrugged again.

“Not really in my nature,” he said simply.

“Hey, Harry, where are you? I found out what was wrong with my boots, they – Tomlinson?” Zayn appeared at the end of the aisle.

“Zayn,” Louis said quietly, nodding his head. “How’re things?”

“They’re... Uh, they’re good, I guess? How’re your parents? Mum keeps asking about them...”

“They’re good! Yeah... Haven’t seen them much, lately, they’ve been working, you know how it is...” The two of them looked at each other awkwardly, and then Louis turned away. “I’d best be heading off, see you round.” He didn’t specify who he was talking to, but he did shoot a wave over his shoulder as he left the shop.

“All right,” Harry said, turning on his heel to look at Zayn. “‘Fess up, what really happened between you three?”

“We were _eleven_ ,” Zayn said exasperatedly. “It seemed like a big deal at the time, and it did genuinely look like Tomlinson was trying to get Niall to do the Unbreakable Vow, but now... Well, I can’t help but think that wasn’t the case? I mean, who’s ever heard of an eleven year old managing to make an Unbreakable Vow?? So my side of the story is that I reacted as I saw fit, and Louis took offence to that, and we haven’t been friends for six years.”

“You called him Louis,” Harry said.

“Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“Never mind that, you said you’d found out what was wrong with your boots?” Zayn laughed.

“Oh yeah, apparently the previous owner had cast a Foot Repelling Charm on them, so no one else could nick his boots? I took the old one off and put my own on, seemed like a good idea.”

“Are you all ready?” Niall yelled, already hovering by the door. “There’s only so many times I can look at a poster of the Kenmare Kestrels before I get bored, you know!”

“Coming!”

It was another fifteen minutes before anyone was remotely ready to leave the shop, by which time Harry had somehow bought the gloves, a helmet, and some shin guards.

“You’d best let me on the team, Calder,” he said irritably, passing the bag from one hand to the other. “Otherwise I’ve just wasted a horrific amount of money.”

“You’re _going_ to get it,” Eleanor said frustratedly, “Because I’ve seen you fly before, you’re big enough to cover all the hoops, and literally the only reason you haven’t been on the team before is because you chicken out before every single try out, and this time I’m not going to let you.”

“So reassuring,” Niall said, waving to a group of sixth year girls as they walked past. “Zayn, you should take notes on her coaching style.”

“I think I might, my team’s going to _suck_ so bad this year. Mind if I borrow your Wood book? I think I’ll need all the pointers I can get.”

“You came _second_ last year,” Eleanor said, “and that’s only because your Keeper got knocked out during the first five minutes.” Zayn shrugged desolately, so Harry threw an arm around his shoulders.

“Let’s go get you some ice cream, and then we’ll get Tom to provide us with loads of alcohol, and we’ll stay up playing Wizard Pictionary.”

“Liam and Danielle will have an aneurysm,” Niall said, grinning wickedly. “I like it.”

***

The alarm came too soon, especially considering that Harry was nursing a horrific hangover. Niall had somehow managed to convince Harry to drink Goblin made vodka, neat, and all he could recall of the night was a hazy memory of giving someone a lap dance on a dare.

“I think I’ve died,” Zayn said weakly to the ceiling after the alarm had stopped (even hungover, Zayn had still managed to silence it with a nonverbal spell. “And I think one of you dared me to snog Liam, but I’m not sure.”

“That might’ve been me,” Eleanor called out groggily from the bathroom. “Any of you seen my bra? I lost it during strip poker.”

“Do either of you know who I gave a lap dance to?”

“You gave a lap dance?” Zayn said, turning his head to the side blearily. “When?”

“Harry, I don’t remember that, have you been giving lap dances while I'm not there to see?” Harry shrugged, as best as one _can_ shrug while laying down.

“Maybe I drunk dreamt it or something.” He could feel himself dozing off, until there was an insistent knocking at their door. “Piss off,” he grunted; the knocker did not piss off.

“Get up, the train leaves in four hours!”

“Four... Liam have you woken us up at SEVEN IN THE MORNING?” Eleanor screeched – Harry and Zayn covered their ears in protest.

“Yes,” Liam said stoutly, somehow managing to barge into their room. “Get up, get dressed, it’s not _my_ fault you chose to get drunk off your faces the night before we go back to Hogwarts.” Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“You’re not hungover.” It wasn’t a question.

“Of course I’m not,” Liam said, smirking. “I didn’t drink half as much as you lot, and I didn’t _touch_ anything Goblin or Elven made – _I_ am not a moron.”

“Point taken,” Harry said, sitting up and scratching his head. “You wouldn’t happen to be stashing any Pepperup Potion on your person, would you?” Liam rolled his eyes, but seemed to take pity on them, because he produced three ready-made vials from his pocket, and handed one to Harry and Zayn.

“Brewed this morning – Eleanor, open up, I’ve got a present for you!” She opened the door, her face pasty and grey.

“I love you, Li” Zayn said fondly, pinching his nose and throwing the potion back in one gulp.

“Yes, well, hurry up and get dressed,” Liam said.

“We’ve got four hours,” Harry replied, already feeling the banging in his head recede.

“Yes, but it always takes you lot hours to get ready,” Liam pointed out.

True enough, the six of them made it to King’s Cross with only five minutes to spare, after a disastrous incident involving Tweety Pie and Reagan had held them up for a full hour.

“Just keep that _thing_ away from my poor owl!” Niall shouted as they burst through the barrier. Harry bent down and peered at Reagan in its cage – it was emitting a low, continuous hoot, which alarmingly resembled the dialling tone of a phone. He pointed this out to Danielle, who tilted her head curiously.

“Zayn, what did Tweety Pie _do_ to Reagan?”

“Trust me on this – you don’t want to know,” Niall said, his eyes looking haunted. “I didn’t want to see it, but I did, and now I’m telling you – you don’t want to know!” Harry turned to look at Tweety Pie, squashed into the largest cage Zayn had been able to find.

It stared back at him, and Harry was convinced that, if birds could smirk? This one would be.

They bid goodbye to Danielle and Liam (none of the others had had so much as a _look in_ for Prefect, so did not have to sit in what Zayn had dubbed ‘Brown Nosing Bureau’ during their fifth year) and, no longer under their slightly more responsible influence, kicked a cowering group of first years into the opposite compartment.

“You know, I don’t think the compartments are built to hold ten first years,” Harry said flatly, watching them through the glass as they tried to manoeuvre round each other.

“Gives them the chance to make new friends,” Eleanor said – despite the Pepperup Potion, she was still looking a little grey in the face. “So they don’t end up sitting with the Prefects for the first month.”

“I distinctly remember you promising never to mention that again,” Harry said irritably – his disbelief of magic during his first year was still a sore topic.

The first hour of the journey passed uneventfully, as the four dozed on and off, staring blankly at the floor when they weren’t trying to sleep. It wasn’t until the witch with the trolley knocked on their compartment door that things started to get interesting.

“Anything from the trolley, dears?” Niall jumped up, apparently filled with a new lease of life at the sight of food – Eleanor rolled her head along the seat and peered at the witch through one eye.

“Have you got anything that’ll give me an extended sugar rush?” The trolley witch peered up and down the corridor, dug into her apron pocket, and threw a small plastic bag to Eleanor. Harry felt as though he’d just witnessed an illicit drug deal.

“It’s a sample from those darling Weasley boys – it’s a Muggle product, but trust me, it’ll do the trick. Just be sure to prepare yourself for what the Muggles call a ‘crash’, it’s apparently not a pleasant experience.” Harry sat up curiously from where he’d been lying in Zayn’s lap, and took the bag from Eleanor. He dipped a finger in and sucked it curiously, before barking out a laugh.

“Oh yeah, that’ll do the trick,” he said, passing it back to Eleanor, who put her own finger into the bag.

“What will?” Liam and Danielle edged around the trolley as the witch backed away, flopping down into the empty seats.

“Our pureblood friends have just been exposed to the delights of icing sugar,” Harry said, pointing to where Eleanor, who already had a slightly manic gleam to her eye, was pouring little mounds of sugar into Zayn and Niall’s cupped palms.

“Where the hell did they get that?” Danielle asked, her eyes wide. Eleanor turned round to smile at her, all teeth and stretched cheeks.

“The trolley witch! Wow, why don’t we have this stuff at home, it’s bloody fantastic!”

“We were gone for _an hour_ ,” Liam complained. “You couldn’t have kept them on a leash for _one hour_?!”

“In my defence,” Harry said, raising his hands. “I never prepared for a sugar high.”

It took less than ten minutes for the three of them to practically inhale the sugar, and even less time for the sugar rush to hit, leaving them bouncing and twitching in their seats, laughing hysterically at each other.

“I love you guys,” Zayn said deliriously. “Soooo much. Like, whoa, you have no idea.”

“Nuh-uh,” Eleanor said. “Because I love you this much – whoops, sorry Niall!” She said as her enthusiastic arm waving made contact with Niall’s nose. “I love you – oh, hey, look!” She pointed at the door, narrowly missing Zayn’s nose. Louis had his fist raised, as though he’d been about to knock, but had stopped to watch the ongoing spectacle. Harry waved him in – although Louis opened the door, he remained at the threshold.

“Have I walked in on a Felix Felicis circle? Or Amortentia?”

“Lou-ehhhhhh, I love you soooo much,” Zayn said, waving.

“Amortentia, then.”

“Nah, icing sugar. I don’t know why it’s effecting them this badly though-”

“Wizard food has a typically lower sugar quantity than Muggle food,” Liam said. “I wrote a paper on it over the summer – so this is probably the most sugar they’ve ever consumed in one sitting.”

“Is that why I stayed awake for 36 hours after I drank a can of Muggle drink?” Louis asked – Liam shrugged.

“Possible, although Muggle drinks can have that effect on Muggles too.” Louis nodded, looking genuinely interested, before he seemed to remember what he’d come in for.

“I was patrolling the corridor, and I found some second years with this.” He passed a violently purple leaflet to Liam. “They swore they didn’t know who gave it to them, but I took their names down and I’ll talk to McGonagall about it later.” He turned on his heel to walk out, and Liam looked up.

“Thanks – you didn’t have to-” Louis shrugged and walked away quickly. Harry looked over Liam’s shoulder at the leaflet.

It was even more purple up close, and emblazoned with the title ‘REBUILDING OUR SOCIETY’, with a subtitle of ‘The Muggle: The Inciter of War, The Prolonger of War’. Beneath this was a wizarding photograph of someone in a mask, looking off into middle distance.

“Looks riveting,” Harry said, leaning back into his seat.

“It’s probably nothing,” Danielle said, plucking the leaflet from Liam’s fingers and flicking through. “But it’s worrying that some second years have gotten their hands on – _oh_.” She passed the leaflet back to Liam. “Maybe it is something.” Harry leaned over again.

_After long years of silence, it is time we took a stand against the systematic oppression of our people._

_It is time for Potter to stand down! He has had his run, but seems far more interested in his own personal affairs than bringing our people back to where they belong – on top!_

_The figures do not lie – more people were lost protecting their Muggle neighbours during He Who Must Not Be Named’s reign of terror than the number of wizards He killed personally, and what have the Muggles done in gratitude for our sacrifices? Nothing, because the archaic Statute of Secrecy remains in place!_

_It is time to take a stand, and march for our rights!_

“And people... _Believe_ this?” Harry asked incredulously – Danielle nodded miserably.

“They’re appealing to all wizards, not just the purebloods this time – if they get them all on side, the Muggles won’t stand a chance, and there’s no way the Ministry can hush up a coup this big if it gets out of hand...”

“So many wizards resent having to hide their magic, it’s not illogical to make the step from being resentful to being indignant against the Muggles themselves, despite the fact that they have nothing to do with it.” Liam looked up suddenly and groaned. “Damn it, we stopped watching them.” Niall, Zayn and Eleanor had all vanished from their seats – the door was still open.

“I’ll go track them down,” Harry said, standing. “Don’t worry,” he continued, as Danielle opened her mouth to speak. “’s’not like I’m going to get attacked by someone on the _train_ , right?”

He found Eleanor almost instantaneously – she was talking very earnestly to a terrified looking fourth year about the beautifying potential of Stink Sap.

“Don’t mind my friend, she’s not all up there,” Harry said, putting an arm around her shoulders and knocking on her head. “El, where’re the other two?”

“Went looking for Tomlinson,” she said loudly, grinning at the fourth year, who was edging away. “Harry, have you met Brody?”

“That’s Brady, El,” Harry said, nodding apologetically at Brady, who’d shared a common room with them for the last few years. Brady took this opportunity to scuttle away into the nearest seating compartment, and Harry chivvied Eleanor back to their own seats. “Keep an eye on her,” he told Liam and Danielle, before setting off after the two boys.

He heard them before he saw them, laughing raucously at something.

“Harryyyy!” Zayn cheered as he opened the door – they were sitting on the floor, staring up at the ceiling; Louis had huddled himself into the corner, watching them warily. “We’ve missed you, mate.”

“Come watch, Haz, we’re watching the _Nargles_!” Niall said excitedly, attempting to point towards the ceiling.

“What’s a Nargle?” Harry asked, turning to Louis, who seemed to be the only one present who wasn’t going to give him a sugar migraine through association.

“A friend of the family used to tell us stories about them,” he replied. “Thought it’d distract these two long enough to stop them from telling the first years about the gargoyle they have to fight to enter the school.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, flopping down into the seat opposite him.

“Icing sugar?” Louis said suddenly, as though he couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Why do Muggles even _have it_? What's it for?”

“You mix it with water, and it makes, like, sugar paste, and you can put it on cakes and stuff,” Harry said – it was very difficult to explain the concept to someone who’d had House Elves do his cooking for all his life. “I’ll show you sometime.” Louis laughed, surprised. “What?”

“You’re just an _absolute_ weirdo, Styles,” he said, trying to arrange his grin into a smirk. He shot a glance at Zayn, and sobered up almost instantaneously. “How are they? Both of them, I mean, in general.” Harry blinked.

“All right, I guess? I don’t know, we don’t talk about our feelings much.” Louis kicked Harry’s shin half-heartedly. “You should ask them yourself.” Louis shook his head frantically.

“They didn’t tell you what I did, did they?”

“Well, to be fair, Zayn doesn’t really _know_ what happened, but Niall hasn’t actually told anyone, so.” Louis’s eyes widened.

“Really? _No one_?”

“Nah. He says ‘it ain’t my story to tell’, which is what Zayn _and_ Liam say, so I want you to tell me so I can decide here and now whether me wanting you as my friend is a completely stupid idea.”

“You want to be my friend?”

“I figured I’d made that obvious.” Louis sat quietly for several moments, so long that Harry figured he should just get up and leave; then Louis looked him directly in the eye.

“I was a little shit when we were kids,” he began. “It doesn’t really excuse anything, just some background information for you. It had always just been me and Zayn against the world, you know? We were gonna get sorted into Slytherin, take over the house from the inside, rule the school.” He looked down at Zayn fondly, who was still grinning at the ceiling, completely oblivious to their conversation. “When Niall’s parents brought him round that first time, I didn’t really think anything or anyone could get between us, but he was just so... _Earnest_. He had all these ideals and morals about Muggles and Muggleborns, and Zayn ate that up like – well, like icing sugar.” Harry snorted.

“So there was conflict in the fabled Malik-Tomlinson friendship?”

“No, that’s the thing, Zayn didn’t really care what my opinions were, but Niall... Knowing what I do now, about Muggles and Muggleborn and stuff, I can see why he was trying to educate me, but _Merlin_ did it piss me off.”

“So you... What, got in a fight with Niall?” Louis shook his head, looking like he was going to throw up from nerves.

“This is more difficult than I thought, especially because you’re such a fundamentally _good_ person.”

“Mate, just tell me, whatever it was happened six years ago, you’ve obviously changed since then.”

“I tried to use the Cruciatus Curse on him, and he just... Stood there and took it, he didn’t even _try_ to get out of the way!” Louis put his head in his hands. “I mean, I was eleven, it didn’t even hurt him at all, but... The first thing I went to do with my new wand!”

“And that’s when Zayn walked in?” Louis laughed, harsh and cold when compared to his earlier laughs.

“No, that was later. I kind of realised right away that what I’d done was shitty, and Niall – Merlin damn it _Niall_ – offered to not tell anyone what I’d tried to do, and even tried to do an Unbreakable Vow with me to prove he was going to keep quiet. _That’s_ when Zayn walked in, and he immediately assumed I’d been trying to do something bad. Niall tried to tell him I hadn’t done anything, but Zayn told me to get out.

“That... Hurt, but I can’t really blame him. I mean, without him and Niall around, I just became this horrendous brat of a kid. Nah, what was worse is that he ended up in Ravenclaw,” Harry suddenly remembered how Zayn had once told them he’d actively tried to avoid being placed in Slytherin, and Harry felt a pang of sympathy. “And he didn’t speak to me again, not _properly_ , and I’ve tried to tell him so many times that I’m sorry, but it never comes out right, and now he’s got all these friends who hate me too-”

“I don’t hate you, you know,” Harry said quietly.

“Yeah, well, you’re weird,” Louis said, his grateful tone betraying his words.

“And neither do the rest of them,” Harry continued. “I mean, Danielle’s not particularly fond of you, but that’s because-”

“I used to be a dick to her,” Louis finished. “Yeah. I was hoping she might’ve realised I’d changed eventually, but-”

“Yeah, she’s really intelligent, but she’s not good at subtle relationship hints, believe me. Tell you what," Harry said suddenly. "Sit with us at the feast, Tweedle Dum, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle High As A Kite will be out of order for the rest of the night, so you’ll only have to get glared at by Liam and Danielle?”

“Was that a Muggle reference I’m not going to get?” Harry sighed – he needed more Muggle-aware friends. “But I’d best not, I promised some of the guys I’d hang out with them.”

***

“This is worse than the hangover,” Eleanor said, her face pressed against the table. They’d crashed just after the first course of the Welcome Feast – one moment they’d been laughing hysterically at the new Potions Master’s wonky toupee, and the next they’d all slumped on the table, Zayn landing in his mash potatoes.

“What’ve we _learnt_ from this?” Liam said, leaning over Niall for the chicken soup.

“Alcohol is better than sugar.”

“...Sure, let’s go with that. Harry, what’re you looking for?” For Harry hadn’t been paying attention at all to the dinner conversation, and had been craning his neck, searching every table in the Hall.

“Looking for Louis.”

“Tomlinson?” Zayn said blearily. “Why?”

“Because he said he didn’t want to sit with us because he was sitting with his friends, but he’s not _here_.”

“You asked him to sit with us?” Danielle asked – she didn’t sound put-out, merely curious. “Why?”

“He’s an alright bloke, and when was the last time you heard him call either of us the M word?”

“Oh, yes,” Liam said sardonically. “Because he is obviously such a good person now that he has mastered polite conversation.”

“All I’m saying is we should give him a chance, he’ll surprise you. What?” Danielle had been smiling at him wearily.

“You’re too trusting. Maybe he _hasn’t_ changed, maybe he’s just-”

“No, I know what you’re thinking, and he wouldn’t do that – he gave you that leaflet, didn’t he? He’s obviously on _our_ side, the ‘Let’s Not Kill Harry Styles’ side!” Harry stood up, intending to make a dramatic exit, but Professor McGonagall stood to make a speech; he sheepishly sat down again.

“Welcome, new students, and welcome back old. May I remind you that the Forbidden Forest is _still_ out of bounds-”

“Seriously,” Harry said, having already forgotten his indignation on Louis’s behalf. “Who _still_ needs the reminder, what _idiots_ -” Liam shushed him, nevertheless grinning.

“And a final note – Head Auror Potter will be coming in over the next few weeks to discuss safety with you, be sure to keep an eye on your common room notice boards for when he will be in your class.” The lacklustre clapping, more than anything else, warned Harry that maybe things were more severe than any of them had previously thought.


	5. The Wildcard Keepers

“Mr Malik,” Professor McGonagall said at breakfast. “Mr Tomlinson. A word, if you may.” Zayn stood up rapidly, almost tripping over his undone laces in his haste to get to the teachers table.

“What do you reckon that’s about?” Harry asked – only he, Liam, Danielle and Zayn had made it down for breakfast because, in Niall’s words, ‘why’d I bother getting up if my first class isn’t until just before lunch?’, and Eleanor had fervently agreed. While Zayn did not have Arithmancy with them first period, he did have Defence Against the Dark Arts second.

“No idea,” Liam said, sipping his pumpkin juice. “Maybe she wants to ask about the J2O fiasco?”

“Yeah, but why call up Louis too?” Louis had appeared at this meal, sitting with a group of Slytherins Harry recognised from the Quidditch team.

The three of them watched Zayn carefully, looking for any tells in his face for what the conversation was about, but all he was doing was nodding very seriously. The talk ended quickly, and Zayn walked back with a piece of paper in his hand and a dazed expression on his face.

“What happened?” Zayn appeared incapable of speech; he slid the sheet of paper onto the table.

 _You have been chosen to partake in a preliminary alchemy class, scheduled for first period on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, taught by myself. This module is entirely optional, and can be dropped at any time, but continuation of this module will count as a full NEWT – there is no final exam, merely a pass/fail assessment._ McGonagall had signed the note with a flourishing ‘M’.

“Bloody hell,” Harry said in awe – Liam and Danielle both looked impressed, mixed with the faintest hint of jealousy.

“Oh,” Zayn said. “McGonagall told me to tell you two that you’re invited, but she figured you’d be too busy with your head boy and girl duties to take on _another_ class – my schedule’s pretty empty, and, let’s be honest, Tomlinson has some sort of studying death wish.”

“That’s a point,” Liam said, looking appeased. “We’re both doing seven NEWTs, we’d be hard pressed to find the time for _another_ one – but you have to tell us what you learn, alchemy’s supposed to be really interesting!”

“What is it?” Harry asked.

“It’s about the elements and transmutation,” Liam said, as though this explained it fully. At Harry’s bemused expression, Liam expanded further. “Changing something into something else.”

“There’s a cartoon about it in the Muggle world,” Danielle said. “Look it up over Christmas, you’ll probably enjoy it.”

***

There was a substitute Arithmancy teacher that morning, who made a point of saying his name several times as they got their books out.

“My name is Professor Moo-gluh-burr. Moo- _gluh_ -burr. It is Scottish, I am descended from a long line of Scottish wizards, Moo-gluh- _burr_.” Harry turned round to look at Liam, who just shrugged. However Aiden, who was unreasonably shrewd for a Gryffindor, smiled blithely and put up his hand.

“Could you spell that? I’ve got some cousins up North, they might know your family.” This was a lie – Aiden had never been further north than Hogwarts itself, and his family never went further north than York. The teacher’s eye twitched, but he nevertheless scrawled his name out on the board.

“You can see why he was reluctant to tell us,” Aiden whispered in Harry’s ear as Harry tried not to join in the increasing laughter from his classmates. Liam leaned forward, appearing at Harry’s other side.

“Pretty sure that’s not Scottish,” he said, and Harry heard Danielle snicker quietly behind him.

“This wouldn’t be half as funny if he hadn’t tried to hide it so bad,” Harry said, as Professor Mugglebutt turned to glare at the students. The rest of the lesson was an exercise in pushing a teacher to their very limits, until he eventually stormed out of the room, demanding to be transferred back to the Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts – the students took this to mean that the lesson had finished early for the day.

“What’ve you got next, Harry?” Liam asked.

“Free period, then Care of Magical Creatures, so I’ll see you both at lunch?” They nodded and set off for Defence Against the Dark Arts. Aiden, who also had a free period, offered to take Harry out for a practice broom flight – he’d been the Gryffindor Beater for five years.

“Wow,” he said pointedly as Harry arrived at the pitch with his Stargrazer ten minutes later. “Leave it to me in your will.”

“It’s nice to know my company means so much to you,” Harry laughed, shouldering the broom – Aiden’s eyes followed the movement.

“You caught me, my entire friendship with you all these years has been a ruse while I waited for you to get this broom,” Aiden said, shrugging. “Go fly round the hoops, I’ll throw some things at you in pretence of training you for Keeper, when in all honesty I’m going to be trying to knock you off your broom.”

Harry had only ever flown on the school’s rickety Nimbuses and Firebolts, but even then he’d had an overwhelming fondness for flying. It wasn’t until he got onto the Stargrazer and took off, however, that he realised he could do this flying thing on a far more permanent basis.

Such as on a team.

 _Damn it_ , Harry thought, swooping around the hoops, _I’d better get on the team_.

“Hey, Styles,” Aiden called as he tossed one of the hastily borrowed Quaffles at the left hoop. “Heard about these Insurgent nutters?”

“The ones after me?” Harry shouted back nonchalantly; Aiden laughed.

“Oh, man, I knew they were after _one_ of the Gryffindors! Let me guess, your name’s Harry, so you’re a threat to their ideals?” This was why Harry liked Aiden – while it was nice that his other friends were worried for his safety, he was a _Gryffindor_ , and Aiden perfectly complemented the ‘laugh in the face of danger’ side of his personality.

“Hear about how they followed me to the Leaky Cauldron?” Harry spent the rest of the period re-enacting the battle to Aiden’s appreciative gasps and claps.

“Man, he’s so cool,” Aiden said as they landed neatly, tossing the ball between them. “Like, my dream job? Follow Potter round, have him get me into weird and wonderful adventures. Damn. That’d be great. You said you had Care of Magical Creatures next?” Harry nodded. “I’ve got another free period, so I’ll catch you later – want me to drop your broom off in the dorms?” Harry nodded again, handing his broom to Aiden.

***

Their first week of lessons was intense, far more intense than Harry was used to, and he was looking forward to sleeping in past midday on Saturday – this hope was dashed by a bony hurricane of elbows and knees crashing into his ribs at six in the morning.

“Ughhh?” He groaned, blinking blearily – Eleanor’s face swam into his vision, looming creepily overhead.

“Morning princess!” She crowed, bouncing up and down on his thighs. “Quidditch tryouts in two hours! I kept it on the down low so loads of people wouldn’t show up, and I only put the notice up yesterday so I doubt loads of people will show – it’s on a need to know basis and most of this house does _not_ need to know-”

“Why are you here?” Harry said irritably. “How did you get in?”

“Girls are allowed in the boys dormitory, come on, Styles, _everyone_ knows that!”

“Go pester Aiden or something.”

“Too late,” Aiden called out from his bed. “She’s already woken me up with an elbow to the nose, it bled all over my pillow.”

“Luckily,” Eleanor said, pulling back Harry's four poster curtains while somehow managing to remain on his lap. “I’ve been healing broken noses since I was twelve, so he only bled a little bit.” Harry now had a clear view of Aiden’s bed – he was sat up underneath his duvet, his head making it look like a tipi.

“I still _bled_ ,” he said pointedly. “Couldn’t you have done this in a few hours, anyway, I’m pretty sure the sun doesn’t come up until ten.”

“The sun is going to rise in half an hour, I checked,” Eleanor replied. “And if it was later in the morning then everyone would turn up and I’d have to tell all the second years that none of them can actually fly at all.” She sighed deeply. “Matt was better with that side, he wasn’t swayed by a crying face – he was also an excellent Chaser, I’m hoping someone decent will turn up...”

“What happens if the early morning puts off a bunch of good players?” Harry asked curiously.

“Well, this is more to see who’s really committed, because they tend to have the most potential, but if we don’t fill the team then I’ll just hold a second tryout.”

However, despite Eleanor’s assurances to the contrary, there were at least thirty students waiting at the pitch when Harry and Aiden showed up, slices of toast in hand, and small groups of students from other houses sitting in the stands; Harry caught sight of his friends waving at him, wrapped up in coats and scarves, so he bounded over.

“What’re you all doing here?”

“I’m here to scope out the competition,” Zayn said with a grin, waving a notebook. “It’s tradition amongst the captains; you’ll probably see Louis and Perrie around somewhere.” Harry tried not to grin at Zayn calling Louis by his first name – he was hoping that sharing classes together would encourage the two of them to work through their issues, and _then_ he could focus on figuring out why Louis Tomlinson was so interesting to him.

“We’re just here for moral support,” Liam said, gesturing to himself, Danielle, and Niall.

“No, I’m here because Danielle made me come,” Niall said irritably, drawing a pinch on the arm from Danielle.

“Don’t you need to go over there?” Liam asked, pointing to where Eleanor was shouting some first years off the pitch.

“Nah, she’s trying out the Chasers first, then she’s looking for another Beater, then it’s me,” Harry said, hopping onto his broom and using it to fly himself over the barrier and to their seats.

“Show off,” Zayn said good naturedly, flicking bagel into Harry’s hair.

“Just because your broom was built by gnomes,” Harry laughed, shaking his head to clear it of crumbs.

The tryouts began slowly, and it quickly became evident that most of the people flying could not _actually_ fly properly. Harry heard one obscenely cocky sixth year bragging about how all of his family had been Chasers at Hogwarts, only to storm off the pitch moments later when Eleanor told him his grip was as limp as a lettuce leaf. Once she had efficiently whittled down the hopefuls, however, it didn’t take her long to find three efficient Chasers, and a partnering Beater for Aiden.

“Hey Harry!” She called over. “Come meet the team – no one wanted to try out for Keeper, so you’ve got the position!” Harry stood up indignantly.

“No, you’ve still got to make me try out, I might be shit!” One of the new Chasers, a fourth year, giggled into her hand.

“Harry, Merlin damn it, stop being a twat!” Eleanor shouted.

“No, I didn’t wake up at six and put on these damn shin guards to _not_ do any flying!”

“Look, if it’ll make you feel better, we’ll have a practice session now – if it turns out you’ve mysteriously become a terrible flyer since I last saw you, then I’ll kick you off the team. Deal?” Nodding excitedly, Harry jumped onto his broom and flew over to join the team.

Five minutes into the practice, and there was no denying it – they were _good_. Despite having never spoken before, the Chasers seemed to be on perfect wavelength with each other, and Aiden didn’t have to constantly shout at the other Beater to be where he needed to be. Eleanor, meanwhile, was fiercely eagle eyed, and it had gotten to the point where she was catching the Snitch too quickly for the others to get any efficient practice in, so she had taken to acting as an opposing Chaser. Admittedly, Harry felt he could use some work, but he felt he hadn’t flown too badly.

“Are you kidding?” Eleanor said during a five minute rest when he voiced this opinion. “You were _born_ to be on that broom, Harry Styles. Look, Quidditch is still pretty pure-blood and half-blood orientated, you know, because they’re the ones who’ve had chance to get used to the game as kids, it’s _rare_ for someone brought up by Muggles to be as good as you. You’ve got _skill_ , and I’m not just saying that as one of your friends.” Harry shrugged modestly, so she knocked her fist onto his helmet. “Get it into your head – you are _good_. Come on, everyone else will tell you.”

“Don’t talk to me,” Zayn said, scribbling on his notepad as they walked over. “I’ve got to _completely_ rethink my strategy for this year, I was focusing all my energy on my Keeper and Seeker, I need to put more time on my Chasers instead...” Liam, Danielle and Niall had disappeared, instead replaced with a purple haired fifth year and none other than Louis Tomlinson, both of whom were also furiously scribbling notes.

“Huh, who’re you talking – oh, hi Eleanor, hi Harry!” The girl looked up, smiling brightly. “I’m Perrie, Perrie Edwards, the Hufflepuff Captain! Zayn’s been giving me pointers and stuff, I’m new to this business.” Harry looked at Zayn shrewdly, who was studiously avoiding his gaze.

“He hasn’t been giving _me_ pointers,” Louis said, looking up from a complicated looking diagram of the pitch.

“You’ve been playing Quidditch since you were old enough to walk,” Zayn said.

“But I haven’t been _Captaining_ that long, you’re a veteran at this.”

“That’s a thought – why are you the Captain this year? I thought Prefects couldn’t be Quidditch Captain too?” Eleanor asked curiously, leaning against the barrier. Louis only looked momentarily surprised at being addressed civilly.

“They told me that there’s literally no one else they could ask,” Louis said with a shrug. “They did ask a few of the fifth and sixth years, but they all turned it down, and I said I didn’t mind, it’s not like the Prefects have to do much anyway.”

“The stress would probably kill me,” Harry said – Louis grinned softly.

“Call me a masochist then, I _like_ all the work.”

“Weirdo.”

“Hey, Eleanor, can we kick off early? Only we skipped breakfast to get here on time...” One of the Chasers called out.

“What? Yes, go, go, don’t skip breakfast, you’re no use to me malnourished, go! Practice schedule will go up tonight, go eat some vegetables, kids!” She turned to Harry. “I feel like a proud mother duck, watching her ducklings navigate a pond without drowning.”

“Do I look like a duckling to you?” Harry asked, pointedly looking down his nose at her.

“You can be my baby emu then,” she replied. “All gangly legs.” She kicked him on the shin guard. “So, Tomlinson, ready to get pummelled during the first game?”

“If you’d asked me an hour ago I’d have been suitably degrading, but I’ve just watched your wildcard Keeper, so I might just accept my defeat with grace,” he said.

“You were really good, Harry!” Perrie said, grinning. “I mean, I’ve been playing Keeper for years now, so I know what I’m talking about!”

“You’re a Keeper?” Harry asked curiously – Perrie had a more stereotypically Seeker build, small and lightweight. Her grin, if possible, stretched wider across her face.

“I get that a lot – just wait till you see me play!” Eleanor drifted away to pack up the spare brooms and the balls, and Zayn and Perrie put their heads together to quietly discuss their notes, so Harry turned to Louis.

“Want to go get some breakfast?”

“I’ve already had breakfast,” Louis said, standing up nonetheless.

“Lunch then. Brunch? Whatever, I’m hungry, I need to be fed.”

“You’re not actually disproving my theory that you’re the Gryffindor pet kitten, you know,” Louis said, jumping neatly over the barrier.

“I’m not actually human,” Harry agreed laughingly. “I am in fact part lion.”

“I was thinking more tabby kitten.”

“Ouch.”

***

“So,” Harry said around a mouthful of waffles, causing Louis to wince. “You and Zayn are on civil terms?”

“You could say that?” Louis replied. “I mean, we’ll never be best friends again, I know that, but it’s nice that he’s willing to give me another chance. I spoke to Niall too, this morning at breakfast, he just told me to sit down and grab some sausages.”

“Sounds like Niall,” Harry laughed.

“Alright, question for you,” Louis said. “You are a Gryffindor, and a Muggleborn to boot. Why are you so adamant to have me as a friend, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I don’t really care what houses people are in,” Harry said slowly, trying to think his reasoning through. “I’ve had friends in Slytherin before, remember Nick? Yeah, he was cool, and he was a Slytherin, I don’t really think what house you are has bearing on your personality unless you let it? And most of my friends are pure-bloods, I only have one Muggleborn friend, so I don’t really care about that.”

“Okay, but why _me_? I was an arsehole to you for at least five years, but you always just seemed to find me... Amusing?”

“That’s ‘cause you are, mate. You’re like one of those puppies with a Napoleon Complex, plus the worst thing you ever did to _me_ personally was accidentally hit me with that Leg-Locker Jinx, which, let’s be honest, doesn’t make you the next Dark Lord.”


	6. The Speech Scrambling Hex

Everything was going well with life, aside from the expectant looks his friends were shooting him, but Harry just assumed that this was about his budding friendship with Louis – sometimes he sat with them at mealtimes and, because Danielle was too nice to hold his previous behaviour against him for long, he was integrated into their friendship group fairly quickly. Other times he would seemingly drop off the face of the Earth for hours at a time, and then Harry would know to go looking for him in the library, where he could be counted on to be curled up with a dusty tome of a book, usually titled in Latin – long winded titles, such as ‘Ueteribus munimentis incantamenta: proicientes super ea, et stolida tueri se’ and ‘Decem mores impetro a Muggleborn ad agnoscunt se non sunt actualiter invictum’.

Yes, everything was going well – until Harry walked into Charms on Wednesday morning during their second week back to find Harry Potter stood at the front of the class, talking earnestly to Professor Flitwick.

“Holy shit,” Harry muttered incredulously. “I – what?”

“Mate, I thought you knew,” Niall said.

“No?!” Harry squeaked, freezing in the doorway.

“We thought you were just being calm about it!” Liam said, trying to shove Harry into the room. “Come on, you’re being an idiot, he’s going to notice you if you lurk at the door like a Red Cap-” Harry squeaked again, hurrying to his seat.

“Styles, what on Earth are you doing, you _absolute_ weirdo?” Louis asked, dropping into the seat next to him. The thing about Charms class, something that Harry had always enjoyed before now, was it was one of the few classes they all shared together. Now, however, Harry was wishing _all_ of his friends weren’t going to witness his impending embarrassment.

“Harry, bless him, has a bit of a crush on Potter,” Eleanor said, with a wink at Harry. “It’s only rivalled by Danielle’s crush on Hermione Granger.”

“You have a crush on Harry Potter?” Louis asked incredulously, quirking his eyebrows. Harry felt himself stiffen, and noticed his friends do the same.

“Yes, is that a problem?” Liam asked _very_ politely, and Harry was pretty sure he could hear Eleanor cracking her knuckles under the table. Harry had forgotten that some people were not necessarily okay with same sex crushes, even if he didn’t identify as homosexual. He wasn’t sure _what_ he was, exactly, he just liked _people_.

“Yeah, he’s _old_!” Louis said, apparently completely unaware of the tense atmosphere. “Like, I’m pretty sure he’s double your age, Curly.”

“He’s 31, _actually_ ,” Harry said primly, before turning to face Louis completely. “So the fact that he’s a bloke doesn’t...?” Louis blinked.

“What? Nah, of course not.” Like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Would be a bit hypocritical, considering-”

“All right, class,” Professor Flitwick said, climbing steadily up onto his podium of books. “Today’s lesson will be slightly different, as Mr Potter has requested to talk to you in light of recent events.” Many of their classmates began whispering worriedly; Harry just leaned forward and put his chin in his hands.

“Um, okay,” Potter began, shifting awkwardly. “For those of you who don’t know, I’m Harry Potter, and... How many of you have heard of the Insurgents?” Every hand in the class rose. “All right, that’s good, I’ve just come out of a first year class where no one had heard of them, so at least I can skip the history lecture.

“As seventh years at the school, you’re in a trusted position of responsibility, and many of the younger students look up to you.”

“Not true,” Louis whispered in Harry’s ear. “A second year called me a slick twat just this morning.” It said much for the lure of Potter that Harry only smirked at Louis’ comment; Louis noticed the lack of a reaction and slumped back in his seat.

“You are also in a position of influencing how the younger students look upon this – you can choose to quell any worries they have, choose to spread truth about the propaganda the Insurgents are spreading, or you can choose to encourage it. Remember, their greatest weapon is you.” Professor Flitwick smiled softly at that. “Now, I know this is a Charms class, but I want to check out your Shield Charms and Stunning Spells, if that’s alright? Can you split into pairs?”

It was a disaster, and Harry was ready to admit he was definitely a part of said disaster. There was a reason he had dropped Defence Against the Dark Arts after OWLs, and that reason was because he was an absolutely _shocking_ dueller. He was supposed to be trying to Stun Louis, who had grabbed his arm impatiently and pulled him out of his seat, still put out that Harry wasn’t paying much attention to him. Instead he had somehow managed to cast a jinx that neither Potter nor Flitwick had ever seen before – and not only that, he hadn’t even managed to hit _Louis_ , but had completely bypassed Louis and hit Zayn, who was halfway across the classroom. Duelling had been halted while Flitwick and Potter had examined him.

“Oh, crap, Zayn, I’m _so sorry_ ,” Harry had said hastily, hurrying over.

“All right, it is – fuck the what?!”

“I – come again?”

“Coming out wrong, the words are! A prat, I sound like! _Agh_!” Harry turned to look at Potter, who looked like he was trying not to laugh.

“It – you sound like Yoda, kid, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh, I-” He coughed. “It looks like a variant on the Speech Scrambling Hex, although why it’s taken this form I have no idea – Miss Peazer, could you take Mr Malik to the Hospital Wing?” Danielle blinked, and then suddenly jumped into action.

“Piss in your bed, I am going to,” Zayn said murderously, pointing his finger at Harry’s nose. “Your eyes open, sleep with.”

“Harry, you might want to sit the duelling out,” Eleanor said warily as Zayn and Danielle walked away.

“Yeah, sure,” Harry muttered, transfiguring a beanbag from one of the stools and kicking it mutinously into the corner. Louis followed him, carrying his own beanbag in a violent shade of orange. “Go away, I’m sulking.”

“Haven’t got a partner, have I?” He smirked. “So, not much of a dueller then, are we?”

“Not all of us can be good at everything,” Harry said, glaring at the floor.

“Have you considered getting extra lessons?” Harry turned to Louis, expecting a punch line, but Louis looked serious. “I know you’re not taking it for NEWT, but I think everyone should learn basic defensive spells, could help out a lot if you ever get stuck in a dangerous situation.” He leaned back in his beanbag, wiggling his butt to get comfy. “Here’s an idea, I could tutor you!”

“Louis, you’re already taking like, twenty NEWTs.”

“We could do an hour a week, we spend more time than that together anyway. Besides,” he nudged Harry with his elbow. “I’m not letting you go out into the big bad world not knowing how to stun people, Harry, it’s just pathetic on so many levels.”

“Okay, I think I’ve got a pretty good idea,” Potter called out – the cries of spells ceased immediately. “It’s kind of worrying how few of you can cast a good Shield Charm, and I only saw three people do it wordlessly...”

“Homework!” Flitwick said. “ _Practice your basic duelling_.” There was a long, collective groan from the class as they shuffled back to their seats.

***

“Well,” Liam said at lunch. “I think that went pretty well.”

“What?”

“Harry Potter’s lesson. I mean, my Shield Charm was a little rusty-”

“As your duelling partner,” Eleanor said irritably, “I resent that, because I didn’t manage to stun you _once_.”

“At least you managed to cast the right spell,” Harry said, shaking his head. “I’d say I was distracted, but I’m just naturally stupid when it comes to duelling.” Zayn slumped into the seat next to him. “Oh, hi, how’re you?”

“Fine,” he replied shortly – everyone raised their eyebrows, and he sighed explosively. “Wear off over night, it will.”

“You’ve got to admit,” Niall said, his mouth twisting as he obviously tried to hold back a laugh. “It’s pretty hilarious.” Zayn responded by slowly raising a middle finger with an overly exaggerated surprised expression on his face.

“Harry,” Eleanor said. “Practice tomorrow night.”

“I thought we were having them Fridays?”

“We _were_ ,” she said. “Until a _certain captain_ claimed the pitch from 4 till 5!” She glared at Louis, who had been innocently scooping up peas with his fork.

“What? The schedule said it was empty, and I needed one-on-one with my new Seeker!”

“But everyone _knows_ Gryffindors train on Fridays – everyone!”

“Just come on the pitch after us!”

“No one’s gonna want to train on a Friday night, are you daft?”

“My Seeker’s got Charms Club every other day of the week!”

“Charms Club is once a week!”

“No it’s – wait, seriously?” He asked as everyone nodded their heads solemnly. “Damn, that lying little shit. Oh well, Friday’s the only day I have spare time to train him, it’ll only be for this week.” Eleanor pursed her lips and nodded grudgingly.

“Mr Styles,” Professor McGonagall called out, and Harry almost choked on his chicken wing. “A word.”

“Shit, man, she looks pissed,” Niall said sympathetically.

“I didn’t even do anything!” He said desperately.

“We’ll make sure your gravestone’s pretty,” Eleanor said, and Danielle yanked him out of his seat and shoved him towards the teachers’ table.

“Yes, Professor?”

“Mr Potter informed me about today’s...” She paused, her lips twitching. “ _Incident_ in Charms. I wasn’t aware that your duelling was so lacklustre, your grades for that OWL were decent.”

“I’m good at the theory,” he said, scratching his head. “But I set fire to the examiner during the practical.”

“The examiner was under the impression that it was an intentional decision on your part. Nevertheless, it is worrying that you can’t manage simple defensive spells without injuring your classmates, have you looked into acquiring a tutor?”

“Louis Tomlinson said he’d tutor me.”

“That boy has a workload death wish...” She shook her head. “That’s another thing, too – you’re close to Mr Tomlinson, aren’t you?”

“Um... Yes?”

“Would you mind keeping an eye on him for me?” Harry blinked. “I had a student very similar to him who took on too many subjects and almost burned herself out, and that was during her third year, and Mr Tomlinson is doing _eight_ NEWTs. Now, you’d best head back to your friends, they are looking very concerned.” Harry turned around in time to watch their heads turn away rapidly, Eleanor’s hair whipping Niall in the face.

“What did she want?” Liam asked immediately as Harry sat back down.

“Potter told her about my brilliant duelling, and she’s nominated me for an award,” Harry said flatly, going back to his cooled chicken wing.

“What, the ‘not as bad as you could’ve been’ award?” Louis said, ruffling his hair. 

"Fuck you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter'll be going up later tonight or tomorrow, I just needed to split the writing I had into two chapters. Thank you for reading so far!


	7. Quidditch, Orchids and Cages

“ _UP_!”

“Seriously, man, get up, you need breakfast.”

“Harry Styles, so help me, I will _shave_ your hair off!” Harry emerged from under the duvet, poking his head out very slightly.

“Why did you all lie to me, you said Quidditch was _fun_.”

“It is fun, and nothing is more fun than wiping the floor with Slytherin’s arses when we pound them into the ground!”

“Interesting phrase choice, El,” Aiden said.

“This is not fun,” Harry whined, apparently disregarding everything that was being said around him. “I feel like I’m going to be sick.”

“You just need some sausages in you.”

“You’re doing this on purpose, Eleanor.”

“Let me quit the team,” Harry pleaded. “I’m sure you could find a replacement.”

“The match is in _two hours_ ,” Eleanor said, perching on the edge of the bed. “Besides, nobody in this house is a better Keeper than you, and you know it.”

“Maybe if they hadn’t moved the match forward, I could’ve prepared myself for it...”

“Nah, you’d have just worried about it for longer,” Aiden said. Harry glared at him.

The first match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, had been suddenly moved forward from November to the middle of October, and the first Harry had heard about it had been the day before, in what had turned out to be their final practice before the game. Eleanor had said it had been moved because of ‘Shenanigans’ – Harry had looked up the last time a game had been postponed or cancelled, and that had been because of the Battle of Hogwarts. Quidditch matches were not moved for ‘Shenanigans’.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Eleanor had said when Harry had questioned her on it. “That’s just what McGonagall told me, I know as much as you do.”

Harry had complained about it to Louis for about half an hour, but he hadn’t seemed too bothered about the date change. “McGonagall wouldn’t do it if she didn’t have a good reason, right?”

“This is actually good for us,” Eleanor said, punching her hand decisively. “We’re ready for this match – apparently the Slytherin Seeker is nowhere near ready, so this match’ll be a _cakewalk_.”

“How do you know that?” Aiden asked curiously.

“Louis told Zayn who told Liam who told Danielle who told me.”

“Why didn’t Louis tell _me_?” Harry said petulantly – Eleanor rolled her eyes.

“Because, for the next few hours, you are in fact his _competition_ – you realise he’s a Chaser, right? He’s probably psyching himself up to get completely and utterly beaten.”

“...You promise I’m not terrible,” Harry said slowly.

“Harry, I take my Quidditch Cup very seriously, I would not lie about this.”

***

Louis was not at breakfast – nor were Niall, Zayn or Liam, and Aiden had already been up for hours and had eaten; he was now out jogging on the grounds. Only Danielle had braved the early morning to wish them good luck. Her teeth were chattering, even though she was already wearing her borrowed Gryffindor scarf and bright yellow mittens.

“Morning guys!” She said – she’d decorated three plates of pancakes with syrup smiles. “My allegiance, as always, is with the Gryffindors, although I’ll clap if Louis gets hold of the Quaffle.”

“Your support is heart-warming,” Louis himself said, appearing suddenly and dropping down into one of the seats – he smiled brightly at the pancakes. “Are these for me?”

“Yep, it’s a Quidditch tradition,” Danielle said carefully, watching Louis for a reaction. If anything, Louis’ smile got wider.

“Where were you?” Harry asked him, chewing slowly on his pancakes.

“Went to check the pitch conditions.”

“Muddy, isn’t it? I’ve already been out,” Eleanor said. “Kick off’ll be poor, but it’ll hurt less when you fall off your broom.”

“You are looking at the Peewee Camp Flying _Champion_ ,” Louis said in a mock taunting voice. “So if anyone’s going to be falling off their broom it’ll be _you_.”

“Oh, it’s game _on_ , Snake.” She threw a piece of toast at his forehead. “Come on, Harry, I want to run through our game strategy one more time.” She pulled him up. “See you on the pitch, loser.”

“We’re going to annihilate you!” Louis called back brightly.

The team was already there when they arrived, in various states of undress. To begin with Harry had felt a little odd about undressing in front of them – Cher was only a fourth year, after all – but then he became friends with them all and his natural penchant for nudity took over, and now he had no qualms with stripping down in front of them all.

“George, mate, you alright?” Eleanor asked.

“He’s just got first time nerves,” Aiden said with a wink; Eleanor snorted appreciatively.

“We all got it,” Eleanor replied. “Everyone else holding up? No one’s going to faint while we’re in the air, right?” Harry shrugged noncommittally, and the Chasers, Cher, Greg and Josh all whined with various degrees of distress. “We’re going to be fantastic, trust me.”

***

“...I trusted you.”

“We _won_ , didn’t we?”

“My leg is _broken_.”

“And you’re bloody fantastic for staying in goal until the end of the game, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t ask you.”

For the first half of the three hour long match, everything had gone swimmingly – they’d pulled ahead with an early lead, and Harry had only let in one shot out of a potential twelve. However, when all three Chasers were playing attack rather than defence, it made sense for the Beaters to be at the opposing end of the pitch with them, to protect them from the Bludgers and to take out the Slytherin team members, giving the Gryffindors relatively clear shots at the goal.

Which had left Harry wide open for one of the Slytherin Beaters to take the initiative and send a Bludger flying towards him with such speed that, upon impact with his calf, had bent his leg _completely_ the wrong way.

“Harry!” Eleanor had shouted, tearing her eyes away from her search for the Snitch. “You injured?”

“No!” Harry yelled through gritted teeth. “I’m fine, keep playing!”

It had been a completely fair and legal shot on Slytherin’s part, but the fact that Harry was so obviously injured had incensed his teammates beyond their original skill level, and the next half of the game was a bloodbath, and the final score had been 450-30. As soon as they touched down, intending to celebrate with a lot of Butterbeer and Firewhiskey, it quickly became apparent that something was in actuality _wrong_ with Harry’s leg, and Eleanor had demanded he be carried by the Slytherin team to the Hospital Wing. At Louis’ glare of insistence, his team had agreed to do so, mumbling irritably the whole way there.

Now, he was waiting for Madam Pomfrey to finish tending to a student incredibly ill with Spattergroit, because he didn’t trust Eleanor when she said she could heal bones. She’d also said their game would go off without a hitch, and that hadn’t turned out well for Harry.

“Still, 450-30 – there hasn’t been a score like that in _years_ ,” she said cheerfully. “Like, _damn_ , Gryffindor himself is probably partying in his grave.”

“Am I going to have to break my leg every game to get us at our top level?” Harry asked, adjusting his leg gingerly so that less of his weight was on it.

“Probably not.”

“Styles, my love, are you dead?” Louis burst in dramatically, dragging in mud with his feet and robes. “Because I demand you leave everything to me in your will if this is the case.”

“Not dead yet, but infection could still set in,” Harry said, sitting up and grinning. “How’re your team holding up?”

“MacHooley’s crying,” Louis said bluntly, quickly cleaning up the mess he’d left with his wand. “But we’re getting some alcohol in him as we speak, and we’ll be ready and raring to take down Ravenclaw come February.”

“Tomlinson, you dissing my team?” Harry turned his head – not only were all his friends there, kitted out in Gryffindor crimson, but the team was there too, grinning and fist bumping one another. Zayn smirked. “Don’t really think you have a leg to stand on, after today’s match.”

“I didn’t realise Curly was _that_ good, I only got two goals past him, and that wasn’t for lack of trying.” Louis winked at Harry.

“Out!” Madam Pomfrey bustled over, waving her hands. “My patients need rest, they don’t need half the school traipsing in and out to check on a boy with a broken leg!” She waved her wand over Harry’s leg – it felt like someone was soldering his bone together. “There, he’s done, you can all get out!” She chivvied everyone out, leaving them standing in the hallway, bemused.

“That was anticlimactic,” Harry said, putting his weight onto his recently broken leg and hopping around a bit. Although it still felt warm, there was no denying that it was definitely healed.

“Never mind that, we’ve got to have our party for winning the game, and probably the cup, with a score like that. You lot are all invited,” Eleanor said as an afterthought.

“Best not,” Louis said. “I need to mourn our cup chances with my team, they won’t be best pleased if I spend the night partying with the Gryffindors.”

***

The Gryffindor Prefects spiked the punch, and the party went downhill from there. For some reason McGonagall didn’t come up to check on them, as was custom, so the night quickly spiralled into debauchery and mayhem.

“Um, excuse me?” A voice behind Harry said – he spun around on the spot, trying to find the speaker. “Over here, good sir!”

“Holy shit that portrait is speaking to me.”

“Ah, yes, hello!” The portrait of a portly, whiskered gentleman bowed, sweeping his top hat. “A young man at the door is requesting admittance; he claims he is ‘Harry Styles’ Booty Call’.” Harry grinned and stumbled through the portrait hole.

“Lou-ehhhhh!”

“Wow you’re completely and utterly smashed,” Louis says laughingly.

“Noo, Pomfrey fixed my leg, I’m fiiine.” Harry paused, and then grinned wider. “Are you coming in?”

“If that’s alright? My house kicked me out for not being sullen enough, so it was either coming here or make Niall sneak me into the kitchens and spend the night with the House Elves.” Harry shook his head – the thought of Louis sleeping alone with the House Elves was sad.

“Come in, our Prefects borrowed some Centaur mixers from Firenze, apparently they’re going to make us into prophets as we get increasingly drunk.”

“Do our Head Boy and Girl know they’re drinking alcohol provided by a teacher?”

“They are far too drunk to care,” Harry said proudly, pulling Louis into the Common Room. “Hey, everyone, this is my best mate Louis!”

“I’m your best friend?” Louis asked as everyone greeted him warmly, obviously heavily under the influence of alcohol.

“Yes!” Harry said firmly, grabbing two shot glasses from a passing sixth year. “The best. Come on, you’ve had, like, no alcohol.”

“I can’t drink too much,” Louis said, holding his shot glass out for Harry’s unsteady hand to pour in some alcohol. “I’ve got to be up early tomorrow.”

“You should relaaax,” Harry said, speaking even slower than usual and smiling lazily. “You should – hey, look, it’s mistletoe!” Louis turned around to look where Harry was pointing.

“That’s an orchid, Styles.”

“So I can’t kiss you under it?”

“It’s a potted plant, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea. Are you always this clingy when you’re drunk?”

“Yeah, he is,” Zayn said, coming over and flopping down onto the sofa. “You staying sober too?” Louis nodded solemnly. “Yeah, I need to tackle that Alchemy work tomorrow, can’t do that with a thumping headache, because I know Li hasn’t brewed any Pepper-Up Potion. If I was a decent person I’d go brew some now, but _someone_ needs to make sure these losers don’t choke on their own vomit.”

Harry didn’t really remember much of the night after that, just odd flashes of colour and sound that really weren’t helping the increasing banging in his head. Not to mention that his bed was _moving_ , which made him feel like he was lying on the top floor of the Knight Bus.

“Harry. Wake up, you’re squashing my balls with your knee,” someone hissed in his ear, sounding incredibly put upon.

“Hmm... Louis?”

“No, it’s McGonagall. Yes, it’s me, you prat, let me up.” Harry shifted slightly, landing with a gentle thump onto the rug of the Gryffindor Common Room. “I need to leave, are you going to be alright?”

“Love me and leave me, why don’t you,” Harry said hoarsely, shuffling around a little. He eventually found someone’s calf and buried his face in it, intending to go back to sleep.

The next thing he was aware of was his stomach rumbling – he sat up, feeling like he’d fellated a dead animal. The clock on the wall said that it was half past four, and Zayn was sat next to him, grinning,

“Drink up,” Zayn said cheerfully, waving a beaker under his nose.

“Hair of the dog doesn’t work,” Harry said bitterly, looking down at his lap – he was wrapped up in a red plaid blanket.

“Which is why I brewed you some Pepperup Potion. One swig, I made it stronger than Liam does.” Harry knocked it back, feeling like his eyes were going to burst out of his skull. “Speaking of,” Zayn said calmly, thumping Harry on the back as he began spluttering. “You seen him anywhere? He’s not in the Common Room, and he didn’t make it back to our Common Room either.”

“M’here,” a very weak and feeble voice croaked out from the window sill, behind the curtains. Zayn stood up and threw the curtains back – sure enough, Liam had somehow ended up curled up on the stone ledge, leaned against the window. “I feel like death.”

“Drink up, Head Boy.” Liam groaned.

“Oh my God I’m Head Boy, McGonagall’s probably going to fire me.”

“McGonagall’s not here, mate,” Zayn said. “At least, she wasn’t at breakfast, so...”

“Do you think it’s got something to do with why she changed the Quidditch match?” Harry said; Zayn shrugged.

“Could be. I don’t know – I’ve been thinking about why she would’ve moved Quidditch, and the only reason I can think of is if something more important is planned for Quidditch weekend.”

“What’s more important than Quidditch?” Eleanor said suddenly, skipping lightly down the stairs. She looked bright and fresh-faced, so Harry assumed Zayn had already given her some potion.

“Well, whatever it is, it’s only the Gryffindor versus Slytherin match that got moved, I asked McGonagall after the match yesterday.” He waved the beaker of potion at Liam, who chugged back the remaining mouthful gratefully.

***

Wherever McGonagall was, she was back at breakfast on the Monday morning, reading the newspaper and sipping tea.

“She doesn’t _look_ like something sinister is going on,” Harry said.

“Of course she doesn’t, she wouldn’t want to worry the lower years,” Danielle said. “That’s not to say there’s something sinister going on, but we’re not going to get clues either way based on her facial expressions. If you're that interested, you should probably ask her.”

“Well, it’s not going to be me, she still hasn’t forgiven me for Transfiguring the examiner into that vibrating pink thing during the OWL exam,” Niall said; Harry caught Danielle’s eye and snorted.

“Surely it should be our Head Boy or Girl?” Eleanor said suddenly, staring at Liam and Danielle, who mutually spluttered on their orange juice. “But then again... You know, I think they already _know_.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Danielle said primly, avoiding Eleanor’s gaze.

“Oh, I think you do.”

“You’re doing that thing where you read each other’s minds, aren’t you?” Harry said.

“It’s not _mind reading_ , it’s-”

“Le-Jelly-Mens, whatever, the point is, now Eleanor knows. Tell us, El, tell us!”

“No, don’t tell them!” Liam said hastily; Eleanor pointed dramatically.

“Aha, you _are_ hiding something from us! I couldn’t actually see what is was, Danielle’s been blocking her head off for _months_.” The Head Boy and Girl scowled.

“Alright, you caught us, we know what’s going on, but McGonagall swore us to secrecy! We also know what’s going on with the Quidditch thing, but she said we couldn’t give that away either!”

“Okay, we forgive you,” Zayn said, patting both their shoulders. Harry felt somebody poke his back – Louis was standing there, looking shifty, but it seemed that nobody else had noticed him.

“Can you come with me?” He whispered, looking increasingly guilty. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important...” Harry stood up suddenly, and everyone turned to look at him.

“Where’re you going, Harry?” He turned to look at Louis, who held a finger to his lips.

“Uh, bathroom?”

“Don’t be late to Arithmancy!” Danielle said as a farewell, and Harry loped off, following Louis, who was almost darting through the Great Hall.

Harry almost lost sight of him a few times, but they eventually drew to a halt in the middle of the Fourth Four Corridor, which was completely deserted.

“Why couldn’t anybody else see you?” Harry asked curiously – Louis waved a hand dismissively.

“Disillusionment Charm, kind of, that’s not important now, you know how I’ve been disappearing at mealtimes every so often?” Harry nodded. “Just... Don’t freak out, alright?” He disappeared into what Harry had believed to be a permanently locked door, and Harry shuffled in after him.

The room was horrifically dusty and dank. Most of the desks had been pushed to the side of the room – only one remained in the middle of the room, and a birdcage rested on top of it. Inside was a greenish-black bird that resembled a forlorn vulture, and Harry kind of felt depressed just looking at the poor thing.

“I’ve been trying to get that cage open for weeks,” Louis said desperately. “I found that bird locked in it, and I’ve been trying to set it free, but I couldn’t _tell_ anyone because it’s-”

“An Augurey,” Harry said promptly. “We studied it in Care of Magical Creatures last year – yeah, you would’ve had to be careful who you told, a lot of people still think these are omens of death.” Louis nodded emphatically, gesturing at the cage.

“I’ve tried _everything_ – I’ve even been looking in the Restricted Section, I had to sweet talk Pince, it was a really traumatic thing for everyone involved...” Harry stared at the cage, dug in his pocket for a pencil, and Transfigured it into a hair pin. “Harry, now is not the time to be doing your hair.”

“Shush,” Harry said, squinting at the lock as he picked at it. “I’ve figured it out, it’s got an anti-magic locking charm on it, you can’t unlock this cage with magic, so you’ve got to... Aha!” The cage door clicked open. “Get a little inventive.” The Augurey shuffled out, looking up at Harry with big, baleful eyes. Gently, Harry lifted it up and carried it over to the window, where he unlocked it and pushed it open. The bird blinked at him, hooted in what Harry assumed was supposed to be a hopeful manner, and flew out of the window.

“You’re fantastic,” Louis whispered, appearing at Harry’s side to watch the bird fly away. “Like, wow.”

“It’s nothing, really, most Muggle boys learn to do that when they’re kids-”

“You have to teach me,” Louis said emphatically, taking the pin out of Harry’s hand and examining it like it was the key to lost worlds. “Oh, and, could you not tell anyone about this? I’d rather it not get back to my House that I’m spending my spare time saving imprisoned animals...”

“Of course, Louis. Hey, I thought the Slytherin House was supposedly getting better?” Louis shrugged noncommittally.

“In that they won’t attack Muggleborns in the hallway, yeah, I guess. But there’re a lot of old prejudices, and, you know, my family is _old money_.” He affected a posh accent, waving his wand extravagantly. “‘ _Oh, Louis, dear, the MacHooley’s told me about your strange little hobbies, do you need to be sent to your Great Aunt again? What’s this about you losing the Quidditch match to the Gryffindors? In_ my _day a Slytherin captain who led the way to defeat was locked in the dungeons for weeks on end, with only his self-loathing to keep him alive, but I’m_ sure _you don’t feel that way!_ ’” Louis rolled his eyes. “Mad, I tell you.”

“Your parents are like that?” Louis suddenly stiffened uncomfortably.

“I’m just exaggerating!” He said, laughing forcibly. “Come on, we need to get to class!”

***

The morning of the Hogsmeade visit on Halloween that Thursday dawned with a light covering of snow on the ground, so Harry and Eleanor emerged from the common room tightly wrapped in as many layers as they could manage, topped off with hats, scarves and gloves. They met Zayn and Liam on their way down to the Entrance Hall, who both looked rather awkward, and neither of them were walking with each other; Zayn held up a hand when Harry opened his mouth to question their behaviour. Eleanor nodded at Harry and went to walk with Liam, while Harry hovered around Zayn.

“It’s nothing,” Zayn said quietly, slowing down. “Really. We just had an argument this morning, that’s all.”

“What about?” Harry asked.

“Liam doesn’t like Perrie,” Zayn said. “And I said it wasn’t like I was dating her, we’re just friends, and he said ‘I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s really immature,’ and then he didn’t speak to me for the rest of the morning?” Harry nodded, sped up slightly, and bypassed Eleanor, who was slowing down, so they could switch argument partners.

“Explain,” Harry said pointedly to Liam, who jumped when he appeared at his side.

“There’s nothing to explain,” Liam said. “Zayn’s just hanging out with this girl to make me jealous in some weird way.”

“That literally makes no sense,” Harry said. “What if he actually likes this girl? Perrie’s actually really nice, you know.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that! But Zayn doesn’t like girls like that, he doesn’t like anyone like that, believe me, I know.” Harry blinked.

“Liam...”

“It’s fine! I’ve moved on, it was just a brief thing in third year, whatever, I’m over it – the _point_ is he’s trying to make a... A thing. I think.” He sighed deeply. “This _doesn’t_ make any sense, does it?”

“Li, are you sure you’re not just jealous? A little bit?”

“I guess,” Liam said irritably. “It’s just always ‘Perrie said this’ and ‘Merlin, Perrie is _so funny_ ’ and... That used to be _me_ he talked about.”

“Liam...” Zayn said quietly, shuffling forward – Harry and Eleanor sped up, to give them some privacy.

“Did you know?” Eleanor said as soon as they’d rounded the corner.

“Nope, did you?”

“No clue, our friends are better at keeping secrets than I thought. Especially Liam, he’s been keeping more secrets than I thought.” They walked into the Entrance Hall – Danielle, Niall and Louis were already waiting for them.

“Zayn and Liam haven’t got here yet,” Danielle said through her scarf.

“Yeah, they’ve had a bit of a... Tiff, I think?” Eleanor said. “Zayn apparently wanted to meet up with Perrie later and Liam... Apparently he’s been a bit jealous? I think they’re fine now, but they’re going to have to talk this through at some point. Don’t tell them we told you, at natural,” she added hastily as Zayn and Liam appeared, laughing and nudging each other with their elbows.

“Right, let’s go then!” Danielle said, actually clapping her hands and shepherding them out of the door.

“You know,” Louis said thoughtfully, walking alongside Harry. “When I used to look in on your friendship, I was kind of under the impression that you never fought, ever. I also thought you shat rainbows though, so.”

“Lovely,” Harry laughed. “Nah, we have arguments and stuff, but we’re pretty close otherwise.”

“‘Pretty close’? I had friends I was ‘pretty close’ to in Slytherin, I certainly didn’t snuggle with them when I got drunk.”

“You didn’t tell me I snuggled with you!” Harry said delightedly. “I don’t remember it, we’ll have to re-enact it.”

“You’re so bloody weird, Styles, I-” Louis stopped suddenly, twisting his head towards the village and going very still, like an animal. “Harry, go back to the school, something’s up.”

“What?”

“Louis, do you hear that?” Zayn said, appearing at their side with his wand drawn.

“Get Liam and Danielle, the other three need to go back to the school-”

“What?” Eleanor said furiously, her wand sparking red. “Hell no, I’m not running back to the school with my tail between my legs!”

“Yeah, if something’s going on, I want to help!” Harry said, Niall nodding emphatically; Louis sighed frustratedly.

“Harry, you are without a doubt the _worst_ dueller I’ve ever seen, you’ll get yourself hurt!”

“I’ve been practicing!” Harry said, demonstrating a fairly decent shield charm. “Look, I’m coming, whether you like it or not!”

“Fine, but you _do not_ leave my side at any time,” Louis said heatedly, turning towards the village. “Liam, can you do those Patronus messengers?” Liam nodded. “Send a message back to the school, get the teachers down here. Let’s go.”

They padded through the snow, sombre and wary, a far cry from their earlier happiness. As they drew closer, Harry began to hear what Louis and Zayn had obviously heard earlier – shouts, shrieks, and smashing glass.

The culprits were hooded and masked, and didn’t seem to be injuring anyone, just causing a lot of mayhem – however, what they were chanting was not what Harry had been expecting to hear.

“Long live Harry Potter!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger for you, you're welcome.


	8. Socks

They lunged into the fray, despite the fact that these people were _cheering_ for Potter – something still had to be done, children were on their way down to the village, they had to be stopped before someone got hurt. Initially the vandals ignored the group, but when Eleanor leapt forward to stun the one hitting the Honeydukes door with a Beater’s bat, they turned, wands drawn simultaneously. The vandals shot spells towards them, reds and one sinister looking green, and they scattered.

True to his word, however, Louis kept Harry firmly at his side, grabbing hold of his hand and pulling him along if necessary, and Harry even managed to stun one of the masked assailants, who’d looked set to perform a pretty nasty jinx on Louis, who was definitely causing them the most trouble. Louis had smiled at him then, bright and proud and so _fond_ that Harry had felt something like light burst inside of him.

By the time the teachers had made it down, the masked people were all stunned or tied up, and the only injury they had sustained as a group had been when Harry had tripped on his shoelaces. The teachers stared at them.

“What...” McGonagall said slowly. “Were you _thinking_?”

“We had to do _something_ , Professor, the little kids were coming down to frolic in the village, and these _people_ were going to ruin it for them!” Eleanor said dramatically, pointing at the incarcerated vandals. Professor McGonagall pursed her lips.

“Ten points each,” she said stiffly. “To your houses, for services to your fellow students. _Please_ do not do something as reckless again.” She turned to Flitwick and muttered. “It’s the influence of Gryffindor, Filius, we haven’t had a group of students so prone to trouble since _those three_. Did someone Floo Potter?” Her question was immediately answered by Harry Potter himself bursting through the Three Broomsticks door, white in the face. “Ah. Good morning, Mr Potter.”

“Pardon my language, Professor, but what the hell happened here?”

“I wasn’t present for the fighting, but these students were-”

“They were vandalising the shops, Mr Potter,” Danielle said, twisting her hands behind her back. “And the Hogsmeade visit is today, so we came ahead to try to stop them before the younger students arrived, and they were... Um, they were shouting...”

“‘Long Live Harry Potter’,” Louis said, frowning at what had appeared to be the leader of the vandals, who scowled back, his mask knocked off.

“You’re the Tomlinson kid, aren’t you?” He said suddenly, grinning with a mouth like a shark. “Yeah, I know _all_ about you. How’s Mum and Dad?” Harry watched as Louis went white and then bright red – when he put his hand on his shoulder, he could feel him shaking violently. The leader laughed loudly.

“Any particular reason you’re vandalising Hogsmeade in my name?” Potter asked - the leader shrugged.

“You fit our ideals nicely.”

***

_‘LONG LIVE HARRY POTTER!’ – VANDALS DESECRATE HOGSMEADE, STUDENTS INJURED_

_Halloween is, for everyone schooled at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft And Wizardry, synonymous with visits to Hogsmeade, but today this traditional trip to a terrifying turn for the worse when a group labelling themselves ‘Potter’s Right Hand’ attacked the village._

_Seventh year students Harry Styles (see page 15 for our specialist wizarding psychologist correspondent’s take on the similarities between Styles and Potter), Louie Tomlinson, Zain Mailk, Nail Horann, Liam Payn, Daniell Peezer and Elenor Calder stumbled upon the scene early this morning, whereupon Styles sustained a minor abrasion to the leg – his condition remains stable._

_The vandals have been taken into custody – Potter has refused to comment on the incident._

“Minor abrasion to the leg my arse, there’s barely a bruise!” Harry said indignantly, putting his leg up onto the dinner table, pulling up his trouser leg and pointing at the knut sized purple bruise blossoming on his shin.

“I hate the Prophet,” Danielle said viciously, dropping the Evening Prophet into the serving bowl of pumpkin soup.

“Then why do you have a standing order for its delivery – twice a day?” Niall asked, using a ladle to fish it out – the photograph on the front, a shot of Harry Potter, glared at the stains taking over the paper.

“Because it’s better to know what they’re saying so I know what rumours to refute – know your enemy, you know,” Danielle said. She pointed to the article. “But it’s really quite worrying – _we_ know what happened because we were there, but the way they made it sound was as though-”

“Harry Potter authorised the attack,” Zayn said grimly; Danielle nodded. “I’ve been thinking about that – it’s quite likely the attack was staged by the Insurgents, make it look like Potter’s getting too big for his position, drum up some antagonism for him...”

“But what’s really worrying about that, then, is that the Daily Prophet reported it like this,” Eleanor said. “Either it’s just them trying to stir up fear, or there’s someone working for the Prophet who pushed this article forward...” They were interrupted further speculation by Professor McGonagall standing up, tapping her spoon against her goblet.

“Students, may I have your attention, please?” The low muttering in the Great Hall dimmed to an eventual silence. “Thank you for dealing with the events of today maturely and calmly, you have all been a credit to this school. As a reward, I think it’s time I made a few announcements of upcoming events in the school calendar.

“On the third weekend of November, we have organised a school trip to London – specifically to visit the Ministry buildings and St Mungos. Fifth, sixth, and seventh years, this will be an excellent opportunity to look into careers that may interest you. If you have any further suggestions of visits, please speak to your heads of house.

“On the first weekend after the last day of term, on the Saturday, the Head Boy and Girl have organised a Yule Ball – this is open to fourth years up-” a muffled groan of disappointment went up from the younger students “however, if one of the older students wishes to accompany a younger student to the dance, this would be acceptable.” Harry instantly became aware of a predatory looking group of third years at the next table – one of them actually licked their lips.

“Ugghhh,” Louis said philosophically, dropping his head onto the table with an ostentatious thud. “I hate balls.”

“How can you hate balls?” Harry said, grinning with burgeoning enthusiasm.

“So gutted Aiden’s not here for that gem,” Eleanor muttered.

“There’s music,” Harry continued, oblivious. “And dancing, and food, and lights, and-”

“I’ll have to find a _date_ ,” Louis moaned. “Or it’ll get back to my parents, and then they’ll send a passive-aggressive Howler.”

“Go with me,” Eleanor said, shrugging. “I’m a _very_ attractive pureblood of Calder lineage, and I’m pretty sure my mum is distantly related to yours anyway, so your parents can’t exactly complain.” Louis blinked, and then sighed gratefully.

“You’re the best, El.”

***

“Okay, seriously, what’s wrong,” Zayn said, closing his book with a put-upon sigh. He’d gone to the library, skipping out on lunch to get his reading done, and Harry had followed, looking like a forlorn puppy.

“Wrong? Nothing’s _wrong_ ,” Harry whispered loudly. It was true, nothing was wrong. Nothing. He’d just been a bad mood since dinner the night before, and he couldn’t pinpoint _why_.

“I’m trying to read 500 pages before next lesson, and all that’s going through my head is ‘Oh, that’s the sixteenth time Harry’s sighed, maybe he’ll tell me what’s wrong now.’ And, funny old thing, you _still_ haven’t told me.”

“I honestly don’t know what’s wrong, it’s like this... Knot in my stomach, I guess.” Zayn snorted.

“Jealous of Eleanor?”

“Why on Earth would I be jealous of Eleanor?”

“Because Louis’ going to be spending the entire night of the ball with her, not you? You know he doesn’t like her like that, right?” Harry nodded.

“Yeah, of course I know that.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“It’s just... Have you ever felt like you’re not good enough, based on something you can’t actually change?” Zayn stood up suddenly, put his book in his bag, and marched the two of them out of the library. “Zayn, where’re we going, you’ve got class in ten minutes!”

“Liam’ll take notes for me,” he said assuredly, leading them down the stairs. “We’re going to go to the kitchens, ask the House Elves to make us cocoa, and then we’re going to have a serious talk about whatever is bothering you.”

“Alright...” Harry said slowly. “But in return, you need to tell me about this Liam thing.” Zayn looked conflicted, but then he nodded hesitantly.

“Only fair, I guess.”

Ten minutes, two hot chocolates with lashings of whipped cream, and two armchairs Transfigured by Harry, and the two of them were sat in the kitchens, sipping their drinks quietly.

“You first,” said Zayn, whipped cream covering his top lip.

“A lot of people don’t think I’m good enough to be Louis’ friend.”

“Where the hell has this come from, and who cares what other people think?”

“Louis probably would, if his parents knew he was friends with me.” Zayn leaned forward, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

“Harry Styles, you listen to me. You are the bravest, kindest, smartest Gryffindor I’ve ever come across, and that includes Eleanor, which is saying something. The Tomlinsons have a lot of sway over Louis, I’ve known that for years, but I can vouch for him right now and say that he’d never give up your friendship for the sake of his parents, and he’d never abandon you based on your bloodline, either.” Harry sniffed, wiping his eyes surreptitiously.

“Thanks, I’m not really sure why that’s been bugging me.” Zayn just raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. “Okay, explain the Liam thing.”

“I won’t patronise you by saying I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He stayed silent for a moment, stirring his hot chocolate with his wand. When he pulled it out, he actually licked it clean. “You know I’ve never really _liked_ anyone like that, right? I mean, Perrie’s great, but she’s kind of like a friend really, I noticed that while we were in Hogsmeade after the ‘Incident’. And I’m not very good at realising when other people like me like that, but... Merlin, you’d think I’d have noticed my own best friend having a crush on me, wouldn’t you?” Zayn wiped his face with his hand, cheekbone to jaw. “So Liam told me the other day, and he said... He _said_ ‘I used to have a crush on you’.” Zayn looked at Harry, and he looked unexpectedly small. “That hurt, more than I was expecting it to.”

“You...”

“The reason I’ve never really felt like that about anyone was... Okay, imagine you’re in an art gallery, like the one you and your mum took me to during fifth year. And you’re standing right in front of that painting we looked up on the Tin-Ternet, the one with all the stars and stuff-”

“The Starry Night?”

“Not important. Okay, you’re standing really really close, and you think ‘Well, I don’t really see what all the fuss is about, this isn’t so great’. You’ve just got to step back and look at the bigger picture, and then you think _oh_.”

“You had an _oh_?”

“I had an _oh_.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence for several minutes. Eventually, Harry looked at Zayn and said “Are you going to tell him?”

“No,” Zayn said firmly. “That wouldn’t be fair. He’s moved on to Danielle, it’d be mean if I turned round and said ‘By the way, I’m pretty much in love with you, just putting that out there.’”

“He’d probably want to know,” Harry said gently.

“But he’d be so _nice_ about it. He’d be gentle and friendly and I don’t want that, I just want him to be my best friend.” Zayn laughed suddenly; he sounded genuinely amused. “Merlin, we’re a right pair, aren’t we?”

“Huh?”

“You’ll catch on eventually.” They stayed in the kitchens until the House Elves started getting antsy, wanting to work on dinner but unwilling to tell the two boys to leave the kitchen. By the time they got up to the Great Hall, dinner was already on the table.

“Blimey, they work fast,” Zayn said, impressed as he sat at the table to dig into some beef stew and dumplings.

“Where the hell were you?” Liam slid into the seat next to Zayn and nudged him with his shoulder.

“Quality bonding time with Harry,” Zayn said vaguely, spooning some dinner onto Liam’s plate.

“I was worried about you,” Liam said, beginning his dinner without even looking to see what was on his plate. “Thought you were sick or something, I fabricated insane ideas of you being deathly ill in the hospital wing with Dragon Pox.”

“Takes more than Dragon Pox to knock me down, Liam,” Zayn said with an easy grin. Harry felt arms slide around his shoulders, before two hands placed themselves over his eyes.

“Guess who?”

“Well,” Harry said, his mouth stretching into a grin. “Judging by the voice, I’m going to say... Moaning Myrtle?”

“And to think,” Louis said, sitting down. “I got you a Christmas present and everything.”

“Alright, alright, I take it back, you sound nothing like Moaning Myrtle, you’re uncannily like the Bloody Baron!”

“That’s it, I’m finding a new best friend.” It was the first time Louis had said Harry was his best friend, and Harry couldn’t stop the smile growing on his face; apparently Louis noticed what he’d said, because his cheeks turned a dusty pink. “Yeah, alright, don’t get sappy.”

***

“You _have_ to hold my hand, Harry, it’s a Muggle tradition, I looked it up!”

“What?”

“Muggle schoolchildren hold hands so that they don’t get lost, so I demand you hold my hand so that I don’t lose you.”

“That’s what Muggle schoolchildren do when they’re six, Louis,” Harry said, nevertheless curling his fingers around Louis’ outstretched hand.

Whoever had planned to take the entire student body out of a field trip obviously hadn’t really considered the mechanics of it. To begin with it had been a shambles, as the teachers had desperately tried to herd several hundred students through Muggle London – they had briefly considered utilising the tube, but some of the younger pureblood students had panicked at the idea of going underground – a kindly policeman had tried to explain that it was all automated and very safe, but using words like ‘security’ and ‘electricity’ had only panicked them further. Eventually the students had been split into year groups, and walked through Muggle London in crocodile formation, which had inevitably led to Louis appearing at Harry’s side. They were now walking together, Louis demanding that Harry give him a tour, despite the fact that Harry, it had turned out, had been to Muggle London less than Louis had.

“That’s a bus,” Harry said, pointing knowledgably. “And another one. That’s a taxi. Pretty sure that’s the Queen of England, just casually walking out of Subway with a foot-long-”

“Pretty sure Phillip’s not a foot long,” Aiden muttered to Eleanor.

“This is the worst tour anyone has ever given me,” Louis said, shaking his head. “If I was an ignorant pureblood, I would be convinced that this was all there was to Muggle life.”

“Alright, students, please enter the telephone booth in _no more_ than groups of three,” Professor Sprout said – despite this warning, the students at the front of the queue pushed forward, ending up with five students pressed into the phone booth, faces squashed against the glass.

“This really wasn’t thought through very well,” Niall said, chewing thoughtfully on a piece from the bucket of fried chicken he’d made Harry buy for him. “You’d think the Muggles would notice loads of people crowding into a phone booth.” Harry shrugged.

“Particularly unobservant, especially in London, they just want to get on with their work day.”

“Sometimes,” Danielle said quietly. “I think about the fact that I’d have probably ended up in an office job or something here, working nine to five...”

“That’s still a possibility,” Eleanor said, apparently trying to be encouraging. “If you want to work in the Ministry, there’s loads of nine to five desk jobs!” Harry was prevented from hearing Danielle’s response by Louis dragging him into the phone booth, punching in 62442 on the keypad, and then pulling up his arm to wave at their friends as they shot down into the underground.

“I hate the Ministry,” Louis said conversationally.

“I thought they’d gotten better after the Second Wizarding War?” Harry asked, emerging into the Atrium. The black bricks had recently been cleaned, so the golden lights flickering on the recently reinstalled Fountain of Magical Brethren reflected off the walls in a bizarre, kaleidoscopic effect.

“Not the problem,” Louis said bluntly – it was then that Harry noticed Louis had been using him almost as a human shield, dodging past people who so much glanced at him curiously. “I have a lot of traumatic flashbacks to summer days spent in the Ministry crèche between nannies.”

“Okay, back here in an hour – you’re allowed anywhere that isn’t locked, please use your common sense, and _don’t pester the employees_ ,” Sprout said, looking at each of them pointedly.

“You want to wait for anyone else?” Harry asked; Louis shook his head.

“A big group’ll attract too much attention, I just want to get through today as painlessly as possible-”

“Louis, my boy!” Somebody clapped his hand on Louis’ shoulder – the force of it caused him to stumble forward. “Haven’t seen you in a phoenix’s age, how’ve you been?” The man was _huge_ , with hair like cotton wool coming out of ears that looked to be the size of Harry’s hands.

“Good morning, Mr MacHooley,” Louis said politely. “I’ve been studying, mainly.” Mr MacHooley laughed, the sound of which drew several people’s stares.

“You always did have your nose in books! Never understood the appeal, there’s nowhere in life that you can’t get without money and a few well placed favours, if you catch my drift!” Louis smiled; it was obviously strained. “What’re you and your little friend doing here, shouldn’t you be in school? I say, what’s your name, my boy?”

“Harry Styles, sir.”

“Oh, the boy in the papers!” He shook Harry’s hand enthusiastically. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I say, you’re the spitting of _Hever_ Styles, are you related at all?” Harry shrugged. “You should look into it, remarkable wizard and – this is between you and me – supposedly distantly related to the Boleyns, if you believe that! _I_ say it’s a load of Flobberworm mucus, but-”

“I’m sorry, Mr MacHooley, but we need to go, we haven’t got long,” Louis said, smiling brightly.

“Of course, of course, don’t let me keep you! Mr Styles,” he said seriously, looking at Harry with an odd gleam in his eyes. “If you’re ever in the area, make sure to drop by for a spot of tea, we’ll talk family ancestry, the things I could tell you...” He bustled off, greeting another seventh year student with his booming laughter.

“Don’t mind him, he’s full of bullshit,” Louis said immediately, rolling his eyes. “He told me I could be distantly related to some bloke named John Dee, and he gave me all this _evidence_ , it was bloody ridiculous. It’s because his blood got questioned during the war, he had to dig up all these facts to prove he was a pureblood, so he got obsessed with finding out other people’s bloodlines.”

“He seemed harmless,” Harry replied.

“That’s because you’re overly accepting of people who are naturally assholes – no, not that way, Anderlin’s office is that way, don’t want to bump into her.”

“Wait, was that the dad of the guy on your Quidditch team?” Harry asked suddenly.

“Huh, Michael? Yeah,” Louis said distractedly. “Nice bloke, I – oh _shit_.” Before Harry could ask who Louis had seen, a woman came over, smiling thinly.

“Louis, dear, you should have told us you were coming to visit, Mummy’s very busy,” she said, kissing Louis’ cheek drily. “And who’s your friend?”

“Harry,” Louis said. “We’re visiting with the school, to help us decide on future careers.”

“Well, I hope you told them that you’ve already planned your career!” She turned to Harry. “Louis’ decided he wants to follow his father into the International Magical Office of Law – who knows, maybe he’ll be able to talk about his Muggle Studies NEWT at the office parties, make a fine joke of it!” She looked Harry up and down, pursing her lips. “You look familiar, dear, do I know you from somewhere?”

“I don’t think we’ve ever met, ma’am,” Harry said evasively; she nodded, appeased, and turned to Louis.

“Don’t go to see your father, he’s very busy, I shouldn’t have taken the time to speak to you myself... Darling, you’ve got a hole in your jumper, and it looks like you haven’t even _tried_ to comb your hair! You look like a Muggleborn compared to your friend Barry, honestly! I need to get going now, give Mummy a kiss!” She pointed to her cheek, and Louis pressed his cheekbone against hers. Mrs Tomlinson bustled away, writing a note on a sheet of pale violet paper, which folded itself into a paper aeroplane and whizzed off back the way she’d come.

“...I’m so sorry about her,” Louis said quietly, staring at the floor. “I was so busy looking out for Dad that I completely missed her.”

“Lou, it’s fine,” Harry said, putting an arm round his shoulders. “Honest. Mind if I ask you a question, though? Do you _actually_ want to work in Magical Law?”

“Of course not,” Louis scoffed, looking up and rolling his eyes. “Just said that so they’d stop discussing it at the dinner table. I have no idea what I _actually_ want to do, I just know that whatever it is, it won’t be in this building.” He waved his arms emphatically. “Has an hour passed yet?” Harry looked at his watch.

“Ten minutes, exactly.” Louis groaned.

“Come on, let’s go hide in the crèche or something.”

***

“Where’d you both go?” Zayn asked when they arrived back at the meeting point. Louis drifted off to talk to one of his Slytherin friends, leaving Harry with Zayn and Niall.

“Louis wanted to avoid people he knew, so we just spent the time in the crèche, talking to the little kids. Where’d you go?”

“I went to the Muggle Liaison Office,” Zayn said, grinning, “so I could pick up some leaflets to terrify my parents with, then we talked to the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, then Niall wanted to go to the Office of Misinformation. Liam and Danielle were in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement all day, and Eleanor went to the Quidditch League Headquarters.”

“Where’re they now?”

“Danielle wanted to check out the Daily Prophet Offices,” said Niall. “So Sprout took them down, they should be back any minute now.” Sure enough, the three of them appeared, walking behind Professor Sprout; Danielle looked oddly determined, Eleanor looked gleeful, and Liam looked both mortified and in awe.

“You should’ve seen it!” Eleanor whispered, taking Harry by the arm so they could walk together on the way to St. Mungo’s. “Danielle marched in, demanding to be taken to the editor, and they were stupid enough to let her in! So in we go, and the editor could only have been a few years older than us, bless him, and Danielle completely ripped into him about misinformation, and how he was a discredit to the journalism profession... Merlin, it was _fantastic_. How’s your day been?” Harry filled her in, and she nodded sadly. “Yeah, Louis’ parents are like that, I met them once when they came round to talk to my parents about something over the summer, spent most of the evening simultaneously praising and bad mouthing Louis, it was bizarre.”

Getting into St. Mungo’s was much easier than travelling into the Ministry, and a Healer was at the door, waiting for them with a cheerful smile.

“Seventh years?” Nods. “I’m Linda, welcome to St. Mungo’s! Many of you have probably been here before, but in case you _didn’t_ know, this is the main wizarding hospital in Britain and, as sad as it is, it is highly likely that you or a loved one will pass through these halls someday, so now is an excellent chance to familiarise yourself with the building and its staff! If you’re interested in a career here, our Welcome Witch has career booklets for you to read, please help yourselves!” As soon as she’d finished, Eleanor dragged Harry towards the elevator – Harry saw, out of the corner of his eye, Louis looking at him, bemused.

They emerged out of the elevator on the fifth floor. Eleanor made a beeline for the tearoom, immediately ordering a coffee from the witch at the counter.

“Okay,” she said, gulping the drink once it had been made. “Sorry, I just really like the coffee here. Where do you want to go?”

“Work our way down? I don’t have the NEWTs for a career as a healer, so.” He shrugged.

The walk down through the levels was fairly interesting, watching the Healers at work, but Harry couldn’t get it out of his head that he’d gone on a field trip to a _hospital_ , which wasn’t his idea of a cheerful day out, especially on the fourth floor, spell damage, where they bumped into a wizard dictating a book and signing multiple autographs – his personal Healer informed them that he had been an amazing wizard, and a teacher at their school, before he had lost all of his memories.

When they got to the third floor, it was to find the ward mostly empty – however, Louis was in there, sitting with a young mother and her vividly orange daughter, who was laughing at Louis, who was directing a puppet show with his own socks. She looked up at their arrival, and her head immediately looked down at their feet.

“Socks!” She pointed her bright orange hand at Harry’s feet.

“I’m gonna go find Danielle,” Eleanor said, patting Harry’s shoulder and walking off.

“Hi, Harry, this is Mary,” Louis said with a grin. “I’m re-enacting my fabulous Quidditch goal against you in the last game.”

“Which one, there were only two,” Harry said with a grin, coming into the room and sitting next to Mary’s mother. Louis just rolled his eyes and went back to his dramatic rendition of sock Quidditch.

“I was brewing a stomach settling potion for my morning sickness,” her mother said. “But Mary knocked a carrot into the mixture and then drank some while I wasn’t looking, and now she’s... Well, orange. In my defence the cauldron was on the highest shelf, and she literally flew up to reach it.” Harry laughed.

“She was determined to taste test your potion.” Her mother laughed, sounding almost relieved.

“The Healer said she would probably be fine, they just want to run a few tests on her to make sure, but she’s been so _bored_ in here – luckily your friend came in and offered to entertain her. He’s very good with children.” Harry turned to watch – they’d moved on from sock Quidditch, and now Louis was reciting Babbity Rabbity and Her Cackling Stump from memory.

“Lou,” Harry said some time later, after Louis had narrated the entirety of Beedle the Bard’s life work. “We need to go.”

“Go?” Mary said, her bottom lip wobbling.

“I’m sorry, I have to go back to Hogwarts,” Louis said, bringing his face close to hers. “But don’t worry, one day you’re going to get to go there too!”

“I just hope she doesn’t turn out to be a Squib,” he continued after Harry had eventually managed to pry him away from her.

“Her mum said she’d flown up to the cauldron, ‘Squib’ is the last thing you should be worrying about,” Harry said.

“She was adorable, though, wasn’t she? She asked to keep my socks, so she could use them as puppets, isn’t that the cutest?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm projecting badly in this, which is why Louis' parents are like this. I don't know anything about his parents, but for the sake of the plot they have to act like this!


	9. The Yule Ball

_Dear Harry,_

_I sent your dress robes! I hope this goes through okay, I’m not sure if Wizarding Post is any better than Muggle Post?_

_Your friend’s mother came over the other day, Mrs Payne? She was very nice, stayed for a few days, but she told me some worrying things about what you and your friends have been dealing with – you_ are _being careful_ , _aren’t you? She recommended I get a subscription to your newspaper, they cater to Muggle relatives of wizards now, isn’t that lovely? The newspaper has been keeping me more up to date, but I do wish you told me all of the goings on of your world!_

_Are you still coming home for some of the holidays? If they want, some of your friends can come to stay – we might not have space for all of them, but I’m sure we can find some old mattresses in the attic if you wanted to have all of them over?_

_Sending my love,_

_Mum_

“Sorry,” Liam winced when Harry showed him the letter with a raised eyebrow. “She does that, she’ll be round at yours all the time now, trying to get your mum involved in her Muggle mothers of magical kids thing she does with Danielle’s mum.”

“Oh no, Mum’ll eat that up,” Harry said with a sigh, putting them letter into his bag.

“Why’d she send your dress robes up now? The ball isn’t until Saturday.”

“She underestimates how quickly owls can fly. Besides, I need to alter my robes, which is quite likely to go wrong, so at least if it _does_ I can go to Hogsmeade and buy some new ones.”

“You got a date?” Liam asked; Harry shook his head. “Nah, me neither.”

“What?”

“What?”

“You know why I’m saying what, there is someone you could very easily ask, why don’t you have a date?” Liam looked very, very uncomfortable. “ _What_.”

“She asked.”

“And?”

“I said no.” Harry blinked. “I like her! But I’m... It wouldn’t be fair to her, you know? I’ve got a lot of stuff I need to sort through first.” Harry blinked again. “Please say something.”

“Why must you _all_ fancy each other?” Liam actually laughed. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing, just... Ironic, that’s all. And what do you know?”

“...What do you think I know?” Harry was starting to get confused by the random back-and-forth – apparently, so was Liam, because he just waved a hand to drop the conversation.

***

The last day of term was not, as Harry had anticipated, a relaxing day off from lessons. Each of his classes had set both practical and theoretical homework for the holidays, and the last lessons were spent going over revision timetables and reciting topics that were likely to come up in exams – Harry had made a complete idiot of himself when, in a complete panic, he’d suggested ‘Polyjuice Potion’ as a likely contender for the practical exam – for Charms.

Thankfully, as it was a Friday, classes for the seventh years finished early – they dispersed, bleary eyed and pale, to their respective common rooms.

“Harry,” Eleanor said, throwing herself face first onto the sofa. “I can’t feel my brain. I may possibly be dead.”

“Please don’t die, Mum wants to see you this holiday.”

“Speaking of, Mum and Dad said I could stay for a week starting Monday, if that’s alright?”

“You coming home with me?” Eleanor nodded. “That’ll be fine.”

“Want to go get dinner?” Harry shrugged lethargically but stood up to leave nonetheless. Bundling up in layers, they headed down to the Great Hall which, for the first time Harry had ever seen, had its doors shut, locked, and guarded by two fifth year Prefects.

“You can’t go in,” they said helpfully, gesturing to the very obviously closed door. “The teachers are decorating for tomorrow.”

“You have to go to the first classroom on the floor of your year group.”

“I thought it was the second?”

It was, in fact, the fourth classroom, and there were already a number of students in there, including Niall and Zayn.

“The others are in the Hall,” Zayn explained at their questioning expressions. “Do you ever notice how many of us have positions of responsibility in this school? Seems kind of improbable, really.”

“Speaking of improbable,” Eleanor said, her lips quirking as she helped herself to some broccoli. “Do any of you have dates?” Niall swatted her with a serving spoon. “All right, silly question – do any of you _want_ a date?”

“Nah, I’m going stag with Liam,” Zayn said – Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes.

“I’m going to single Pringle mingle,” Niall said with a shrug. “See what happens.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to a date, why?” Harry said.

“Well, as it happens, I am dateless, and need someone pretty to dance with.”

“I thought you were going with Louis?”

“He’s had a change of mind,” Eleanor said evasively around a mouthful of food, as evasive as one can speak around a mouthful of food. “Not really my place to say, don’t think he’s told anyone else.”

“Who’s told anyone what?”

“ _Louis_!” Everyone said guiltily – he frowned.

“If you want me to go, I can-”

“No, no! I just told them we’re not going to the ball together, but I didn’t tell them why.”

“Oh, that doesn’t bother me.” He shrugged, sitting next to Zayn. “My parents are out of the country for a while, some wizarding colony in ‘Asia’, they sent me a note through their PA, so they’re not going to hear about their failure of a son’s dating escapades, so I can either go alone, or dig up my latent Gryffindor courage and ask the person I actually _want_ to go with.” He smiled at Harry, who returned it forcibly.

“Well, I hope you ask her, she’ll definitely say yes.”

“What makes you think-”

“El, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go to the ball with you.”

Silence. Then;

“Uh, Harry... Are you quite sure you want to go with _me_ , and not somebody _else_?”

“You, definitely. Yep.”

***

“I’m such an arse,” Harry said almost twenty-four hours later to his own reflection. Eleanor was reclining on his bed, already in her teal dress robes.

“Yep,” she said, snapping her gum between her teeth.

“Now everybody’s going to think we’re _dating_.”

“I did try to warn you.”

“ _Such_ an idiot.”

“Come here, you’re tying your robes like a fifteenth century Wizard Councillor.” She walked over to him and, with a few deft twists of her wrists, tied his robes together neatly. She grimaced at his hair. “Have you put goose fat in your hair?”

“I _tried_ to get it to go straight and sleek.” Sighing, Eleanor tapped her wand against his head, siphoning the straightening serum out of it slowly and methodically, running her fingers through it.

“Work the curls, I know people who’d cut off limbs for hair like yours.” She turned, and looked at their reflections in the mirror.

“Absolutely gorgeous, darlings,” her mirror said complementarily; Eleanor winked.

“Aren’t we though? Come on, Harry, let’s go dazzle the masses.”

There were alternately enamoured and jealous faces staring at them as they walked to the Hall, arms interlinked like twelve-year-old girls. The Great Hall was far more impressive and fun to look at, in Harry’s opinion – there was enchanted snow falling very gently from the ceiling, dainty ice sculptures no more than six inches dancing above their heads, and twelve huge Christmas trees decorated with blue and white lights. Harry could see their friends gathered at the foot of one of them – they waved, Louis’ a little distracted as his eyes widened.

“Please, save some of the good looks for us,” Zayn said drily once pleasantries had been exchanged – obviously oblivious to the looks people were shooting him. “And I demand you both dance with me tonight.”

“By the time we work through all the potential pairings,” Danielle said, looking resplendent in dark pink. “It’ll probably be the end of the night.” She giggled. “So we should probably start now – Eleanor?” She bowed low and held out her hand; Eleanor curtsied and took it, snickering as Danielle led her out onto the dance floor.

“Hell no, not dancing until I’ve got enough alcohol in me to knock out a Ukrainian Ironbelly,” Niall said, heading over to the heavily manned by teachers alcohol table, intended only for the students older than seventeen.

“We need to go socialise with the Ravenclaws before you all monopolise us for the rest of the night,” Liam said, pulling an increasingly pink Zayn away by the wrist – Harry turned to Louis.

“I take it you asked that person – where’re they?” Harry said, looking around curiously, as though Louis was hiding her behind his back.

“I couldn’t, in the end,” Louis said, kicking the floor with his highly polished dress shoes. “He went with someone else, so-”

“ _He_?”

Louis blinked.

“Yes?”

“You didn’t... You never... You’re...”

“Gay as the fifth of June,” Louis said proudly – Harry decided not to correct his Muggleism. “I thought it was pretty obvious?”

“I – no!” Harry grinned – somehow the idea of Louis exclusively liking boys was comforting. Louis grinned back.

“Part of the reason I was going with El was that my parents have this ‘criteria’ for who they like me to date – Slytherin, Pureblood, Female. As long as they fill two, my parents won’t complain... much.”

“What if they don’t fit any?”

“Then I wouldn’t be taking them home to dear old Mum and Dad any time soon!” He laughed, and Harry managed a strained grin. “Although they weren’t fans of Fiona MacHooley, so the rule of three isn’t absolute.”

“You dated the guy on your Quidditch team’s sister?”

“Yeah, she was two years above us, that’s how I got to know the whole family. As I said, Michael’s great, the rest...” He pressed his finger to his temple and twisted it. “Question – are Zayn and Liam having a lover’s tiff over there?” He pointed discreetly; Harry looked over his shoulder subtly, but needn’t have bothered, as Liam and Zayn were wrapped up in each other. Zayn – Zayn looked _furious_ , Harry had never seen him look like that –

“I’ve only seen him look like that once,” Louis said, as though he’d known what Harry had been thinking. “Day before first year. Shit, he’s _angry_ – come on!” For Zayn was storming out of the room, Liam running after him.

“What, we can’t _follow them_!” Harry hissed as Louis shoved him through the awkwardly dancing crowd.

“Of course we can, don’t sound so scandalised,” Louis replied, ducking behind a burly Hufflepuff sixth year.

Zayn and Liam only got as far as the path outside leading up to the school – in a fit of unrepeatable espionage, Harry and Louis dove into the shrubbery nearby while they were looking the other way.

“You’re a _fucker_ , Payne!” Zayn shouted, not holding back now they were outside. “You’ve been flirting with Danielle for _years_ now, never mind how I feel now, how’s _she_ going to feel!?”

“I explained it to her the other day-”

“Well _somebody_ give the boy the Order of Merlin, First Class!” Zayn yelled, throwing his hands into the air. “Proper paragon of virtue!”

“What else was I _supposed_ to do, I was confused! Danielle liked me, I thought I could make myself like her back! But you were always _there_ and never left my _head_ -”

“You were never supposed to like me! You were supposed to like Danielle, you – you _lied_ to me!” Zayn said suddenly, his eyes wide and hurt. “That time I asked you – I outright _asked you!_ – if you had any residual feelings for me from third year, and you looked me right in the eye and said no!”

“I was scared, Zayn, I’m not like Harry, or El, or Niall – or, hell, even you, I can’t come outright and talk about stuff like that!”

“What, you mean feelings? Wow, we’re _so brave_ for talking about our feelings right now, maybe the Hat should’ve put me in Gryffindor!” He turned away from Liam. “No, you know what, I’m done here. See you after Christmas.”

“But... You were supposed to be spending Christmas with _me_ ,” Liam said in a very small voice. Zayn turned around again; his expression was hard and closed off, and the slow raise of his eyebrow spoke volumes. He walked off, his head held stiff and proud; Louis nudged Harry with his elbow.

“Go after him, I’ll look after Liam,” he mouthed, scrambling out of the bushes as Harry jumped up, nearly knocking his head on the corner of the stone windowsill.

Despite executing a swift jog, it wasn’t until he was up three flights of stairs that he caught up with Zayn, and the only reason he found him was because he sniffled as Harry walked past, giving himself away – even then, finding Zayn was difficult. Harry was stood on an apparently deserted staircase, and the nearest visible person was a girl coming out of the toilets two floors down. It wasn’t until he started looking closer that he noticed the painting, featuring a boy with plumed butterfly wings and a golden club, was watching him curiously.

“You can’t come in,” he said worriedly, side-eyeing Harry. “There’s someone in here.”

“I know,” Harry said. “I’m looking for him.” The painting narrowed its eyes, pulling out a bow and arrow menacingly.

“You the boy who spurned this poor lad?”

“Oh, shut up, Anteros, and open the damn door,” Zayn said hoarsely – still glaring, the portrait swung open. Inside was nothing more than a stone ledge, like a bench, which Zayn was curled up on. “Found this a few years ago – Anteros’s cool, get’s a bit protective of what he calls ‘spurned lovers’ though.” Harry shuffled into the alcove, tilting the portrait shut behind him, and sat down next to Zayn. “I’m fine, really, just getting emotional, you know, last Christmas at Hogwarts and all that-” Harry, by response, pulled Zayn into a rough hug.

“I heard,” he explained; Zayn took a deep, shuddering breath. “Me and El are heading to mine on Monday, want to come along?” Zayn hiccupped.

“I don’t want to intrude on your Christmas, Haz.”

“Trust me, Mum has been begging me to bring you back since you brought her those Everlasting Flowers – she keeps them on the mantelpiece. The _mantelpiece_ , Zayn.”

***

Harry came across Louis again an hour later in the Great Hall, hands curled around a goblet of non-alcoholic punch – when he saw Harry, he smiled weakly.

“How is he?” They both asked simultaneously; Louis gestured for Harry to speak first.

“I think he’ll be okay in the long run – we talked a lot, he said he’d forgive Liam eventually for the lying and the duplicity, but he probably needs space right now.” Louis nodded.

“That’s what I said to Liam, that he needs to think very carefully about what he wants, and he also needs to have a long conversation with Danielle, too.” He looked up suddenly. “Although, she doesn’t seem too bothered.” Harry looked – Danielle was sandwiched between Niall and Eleanor, the three of them whirling round the dance floor like a laughing tornado. Harry shrugged.

“People’s feelings are a mystery to me.” A noise above his head caused him to glance up. “Hey, look, mistletoe.” Louis looked up and smirked.

“Well done, you managed to distinguish between an orchid and mistletoe this time.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Come dance with me before we’re captured by the whirling mass that is our friends.”

***

Monday morning dawned grey, and Harry was honestly glad to be going home, at that point. Breakfast on the morning after the ball had been an extremely tense affair – as long as they could remember Liam and Zayn had been sitting next to each other, had arrived down to weekend breakfasts with each other, had served each other food, had even _fed_ each other on occasion. Sunday morning, Harry had come downstairs to find Liam sitting alone, staring at his orange juice morosely.

“Hey, Li,” Harry said softly, sitting in his customary seat across from Liam. “How’re you?”

“I feel like I would imagine getting hit with a Bludger would feel like.” He shook his head and looked up, smiling. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Never mind that, how was your night?”

“Dress shoes gave me blisters, so Louis carried me up to the Gryffindor Common Room to heal them.” It suddenly occurred to Harry that Louis could’ve probably magicked his blisters off just as easily in the Great Hall. He grinned slightly, remembering how soft Louis’ hair had been.

Zayn came down to breakfast next and, very pointedly, sat next to Harry in Louis’ regular seat, stretching across the table to reach the marmalade that Liam had probably put closer to Zayn’s original seat.

Thankfully, Harry only had to sit in silence with the two of them for ten minutes, but it was undoubtedly the tensest ten minutes of Harry’s life. When everyone finally arrived for breakfast, they didn’t even hesitate at Zayn and Liam’s blatant separation – Louis had obviously forewarned them – and sat down, filling the silence with conversation.

“Harry, did you get back to your common room all right? You were limping pretty badly by the end of the night,” Eleanor said, spreading her toast liberally with jam.

“Louis helped me back,” Harry said, grinning at Louis, who smiled back. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked like he hadn’t slept a wink all night. “You have a good night after we left?”

“I don’t really remember,” Niall admitted. “Must’ve been, I woke up passed out outside the Ravenclaw common room, so I can only imagine what adventures I got up to.”

“Was that _you_ shouting ‘the sphinx, the sphinx!’ at our common room door at three in the morning?” Zayn said suddenly, looking slightly more with it.

“Could’ve been. Oh, yeah, I remember, I was trying to find you and Li, had something to tell you, but that bloody bird wouldn’t let me in, it kept asking about letters and colours.”

“And you thought the _sphinx_ was the logical answer?” Zayn asked incredulously.

“I was pretty drunk.”

“What’s the question?” Danielle asked curiously.

“‘Pronounced as one letter, written with three, two letters there are, and two only in me; I’m double, I’m single, I’m black, blue, and grey, I’m read from both ends, and the same either way.’ It’s eye, although the third years made a valid case for ‘ewe’.”

“ _So_ glad I’m not a Ravenclaw, seems more work than necessary just to get into the common room,” Harry said gratefully. “Louis, why do you keep staring at the ceiling?” Louis jumped out of his reverie.

“Hmm? Oh, no reason! Just waiting for an owl!”

“It’s the holidays, who could you be expecting a letter from _now_?”

“My parents, actually, I don’t know what I’m doing for the holidays.” Eleanor’s eyes widened.

“You mean they’ve just... Left you? At _Christmas_?”

“They’ve done it a few times, I’ll just spend the holidays with the servants, I prefer it that way.”

“No. _No._ I – no. Harry, your mum won’t mind an extra to your hotel for wayward friends, right?”

“You don’t understand, Mum _loves you all_ , seriously.”

“Harry, your mother doesn’t even _know_ me,” Louis said incredulously.

“Oh, she does, Harry writes home about us every week,” Niall said, laughing at the steadily growing blush on Harry’s cheeks. “When we got back from first year his mum greeted us all by name and asked us questions about how our year’d been, it was really cool.”

“Yeah, Anne’s lovely,” Danielle said, nodding happily. “She’d be more than happy to let you stay, she personally invited me and Mum over for Boxing Day.” She looked at Harry, and flickered her eyes at Liam – her voice popped into Harry’s head. ‘She’s invited the Paynes over, too, so you may want to forewarn Zayn.’ It was always odd when Danielle used Legilimency to speak in Harry’s mind; he shook his head to clear it.

“You alright, Haz?” Louis asked, obviously concerned.

“Yeah, there was a, uh, fly? But yeah, come over for the holidays, Mum’s pretty eager to meet you, actually.”

***

The train ride home on Monday was much the same as Sunday had been – Liam morose and silent, Zayn interjecting occasionally, and everyone else trying to tiptoe around the elephant in the room. It had eventually been agreed that Louis would stay the full holidays, Zayn for as long as he wanted, Eleanor for the first week, Danielle and Liam for a few days from Boxing Day, and Niall after the New Year, so when Harry finally found his mum in the throng of waiting Muggle parents at King’s Cross, it was with everyone in tow – he felt kind of like Bo Peep, which drew a snort from Danielle when he mentioned it to her.

“Hello, everyone!” His mum said cheerfully, clutching a plastic bag. “I wasn’t sure who was coming back with us, so I bought a sandwich for everyone. How did your first term as Head Boy and Girl go?”

“Wow, Mum, it’s good to see you, too, I’m great, thank you for asking,” Harry said good-naturedly, rolling his eyes and digging through the plastic bag. “Eleanor, Zayn, and Louis are coming back in the car, is there enough space, or am I going to have to sneak in an Engorgement Charm when no one’s looking.”

“Harry!” Liam said, scandalised, the first thing he’d said in hours. “You’re not supposed to do magic outside of school!”

“No one’s going to notice. In case you haven’t realised, we’re _surrounded_ by wizards – best time to get underage magic in is when you’re surrounded by people,” Harry said knowledgeably. He hugged Liam goodbye first, muttering in his ear “I’ll tell Zayn about Boxing Day, he’ll be here.” Liam nodded weakly and with a faint wave to everyone that Zayn pointedly ignored, wandered away to his parents.

“Zayn,” Eleanor said sternly, her hands on her hips as Niall and Danielle joined their own parents. “Let the boy apologise.”

“I’m entitled to feel a little irritable,” Zayn said primly, tilting his nose up into the air. “He told me that he was ‘ready to go out with me’, you know, didn’t actually seem to _want_ my opinion on the matter.”

“That was probably just nerves,” Louis said reasonably. “You say silly things to people you fancy.”

“Yeah, you’d know,” Eleanor said, quick as a sniper.

“How’re we getting back, Mum?” Harry said, choosing not to ask Louis what, exactly, he knew.

“Car.”

“We’re going in a _car_?” Louis said delightedly, bouncing up onto his toes. “An untouched by magic car? _Cool_.”

“Well, Harry had a magical outburst in the back of the car when he was ten, but other than that, it’s completely untouched.”

“ _Mum_ ,” Harry whined. “You said you wouldn’t tell this story, come _on_.”

“Maybe later, when you’re asleep in the car,” she said, winking at his friends. They laughed. He needed new friends. “Who wants to sit up front?”

“Louis,” Harry said, before anyone else could say anything. “It’s his first time in a Muggle car.”

“I want the left window seat!” Eleanor said just as Zayn said “Shotgun right window seat!”

“Well that’s that sorted. Do any of you need anything from London?” They all shook their heads. Come on then, I managed to get a decent parking space, let’s get out before everyone decides it’s time to leave.”

***

For the first ten minutes of the drive, Louis gawped at _everything_ – the traffic lights, road signs, traffic cones, road markings, lorries, buses – but then, as he was prone to do, he got bored.

“So it’s what, fifteen minutes to your house?” He said, turning in his seat to talk to Harry, who smirked in response.

“If the traffic’s good.”

“Harry, don’t tease him,” his mum said. “It’ll be about three hours, sweetie.”

“Three _hours_? What do we do for three _hours_?”

“What Muggles have been doing for decades,” Eleanor said – she was a veteran car rider by this point. “We play music and car journey games. In fact,” she dug through her purse, pulling out squares of card and pens. “I’ve prepared Muggle Bingo for us to play.”

“You’re getting way too into this, El,” Harry said wearily, taking the card she was brandishing under his nose. One of the things to cross out was ‘horse and carriage’. Another was ‘dungarees’. “Most Muggles just sit quietly during car journeys.”

“You didn’t,” his mum said absently, turning a corner erratically. “You used to make me stop at every service station to ‘go for pee pee’.”

“ _Mum_.”

“Ma’am, is it alright if we put music on?” Louis said politely – Harry was reminded of when he’d seen Louis at the Ministry.

“Of course, dear, and it’s just Anne, really.” Louis hovered his hand near the radio, pondering each of the buttons – Harry considered leaning forward to point to the on button, but it was worth the momentary wait when he found it, grinning proudly when ‘Hits of the Nineties’ came on.

“Oooh, morning sickness song,” Anne said enthusiastically as the DJ introduced UB40’s ‘I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You’ – Harry groaned.

“Mum, seriously, no one wants to know about your morning sickness, Merlin’s scrotum!”

“Language, Harry!”

“Sorry Mum.”

“What’s it about?” Louis said, listening very earnestly to the lyrics.

“It’s a cover of an Elvis song, he was an amazing singer,” Anne explained seriously. “It’s about a man who falls in love, even though falling in love with the person might not be the wisest thing for him.”

“Muggle music’s so much better than wizard music,” Eleanor said, leaning back in her seat and closing her eyes. “Like, Celestina Warbeck – we get it, he broke your heart, there is literally no reason to sing thirty million songs about it.”

“There’re songs like that in the Muggle world too,” Anne said fairly.

“They’re not accompanied by Banshees.”

***

Everyone beside Harry fell asleep pretty quickly, leaving him to fill his mum in with the latest goings on.

“Have you told Zayn that Liam will be arriving here?” She said. Harry shook his head. “Are you going to tell him?”

“Not yet,” Harry whispered, looking over at Zayn, who was curled up against the window. “I think he needs some time to be angry.” Anne nodded.

“They’ll work it out, those boys are good together.” An odd expression crossed her face, almost as if she was holding back a smile. “Speaking of which, is there something you want to tell me?” She looked at Louis pointedly, who was snoring gently.

“Eh? Mum, Louis’ my best mate.”

“Really? You’re not...?”

“No?”

“Oh. You know I’d be okay with that, don’t you?”

“Course I do, Mum.” She nodded, frowning slightly at the road. Harry was starting to recognise where he was, which meant he couldn’t be that far from home.

“You were in the Prophet the other day,” she said suddenly. “Something about the Insurgents-”

“Mum, trust me on this, I could not be _any_ safer at Hogwarts. Nothing gets in or out of that school without McGonagall knowing about it.” They pulled into his driveway, the car stuttering to a halt – even with the sneaky modification spells Harry had put on their luggage, the car had still strained to carry five adults from London to Cheshire – he was going to have to look up how to fix a car over the holidays. “Guys, we’re here, wake up.” Eleanor stretched obnoxiously, flinging her arms in Harry’s face, while Zayn rolled away from the window, the right side of his face slightly squashed from being pressed against it. Louis didn’t move.

Leaning forward in his seat to put his head between the front two seats, Harry peered at Louis. He looked serene and peaceful, his mouth faintly open. Harry blinked when his immediate thought was to wonder what it would feel like to kiss him.

“Louis,” he hissed. Louis scrunched up his eyes and nose. “We’re here. Genuine Muggle village and everything, you might even see a pair of dungarees if you’re lucky.” Louis yawned.

“We’re here already? Wow, that went pretty quick.” Harry grinned – their faces were still close together.

“You’ve discovered the ancient Muggle pastime of sleeping when things get dull – congratulations, your inauguration is now complete.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a horrendously edited chapter and I'm very sorry - I'll read through it again later to fix what's bugging me, but the plot isn't going to change, so, here you go!  
> On the plus side, this took so long because I also wrote half of another chapter this week, so in the future another chapter should (should) come quicker!


	10. Muggle Dates

Harry’s bedroom was just big enough to house the four of them, and that had involved turning his floor into a sea of mattresses and storing everyone’s luggage in Gemma’s old room – thankfully, she’d decided to spend Christmas with her boyfriend’s family, otherwise their luggage would’ve ended up sprawled throughout their house. Time and time again Harry had begged Anne to let him modify the house when he graduated Hogwarts, but she’d insisted that she didn’t want to get above her means, nor did she want to become overly dependent on a skill she didn’t actually have.

“I feel like I could sleep for _days_ ,” Eleanor said, flopping back onto one of the mattresses and closing her eyes.

“I feel like I _have_ slept for days,” Zayn said, leaning against the doorframe heavily – Louis was leant on the windowsill, staring out at the park across the street.

“So you _don’t_ want to go to the cinema?” Harry said knowledgeably, laughing when the three purebloods noticeably perked up.

“Don’t forget,” Harry lectured on the walk to the cinema. It had taken them a while to scrounge together suitable Muggle incognito outfits – Eleanor had looked passably vintage in one of Anne’s old shirts and a belted pair of jeans, and while Zayn’s outfit would’ve been better suited for the nineties, it wouldn’t raise suspicion. The only Muggle clothing Louis owned, however, was one pair of jeans and a t-shirt, which was a faded, mottled grey. While suitable, the only outerwear he owned were robes, and it was far too cold to venture out in just a t-shirt. So, Harry had dug through his closet, eventually finding a crimson hoodie that was slightly too big on _him_ ; on _Louis_ , the sleeves obscured all but his fingertips, but at least he’d be warm. “Muggles get really annoyed if you talk during the film, so you all have to be quiet. If you’re getting pick and mix, don’t get fudge, it costs more, get loads of really light sweets. If you need a pee, Merlin’s sake hold it, there’s nothing more annoying than someone walking in front of you during the film.” Harry expected _someone_ to make a comment, but the three of them were nodding very earnestly, obviously determined not to make mistakes.

“Harry? Harry Styles?” Harry turned round – a girl was looking at him curiously. He was hit with a flash of recognition.

“Pixie?” She grinned.

“Yeah! Mate, it’s been too long! How’s boarding school? I tried looking it up online, but do you know how many St John’s Boarding Schools there are?” Harry smiled weakly, scratching his head.

“Yeah, you know, I don’t think my school _has_ a website, they’re kind of behind the times.” It wasn’t a lie, at least.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?” Pixie asked, sizing each of them up – they’d all gone very stiff, either through years of intense pureblood breeding or out of nerves, Harry couldn’t tell. “Because if this is what everyone looks like at your school, I might have to apply.”

“This is Pixie,” Harry said. “We went to primary school together, she’d have probably made me fail maths if we’d gone to the same secondary school. This is Louis, Zayn, and Eleanor – those two nearly made me fail Defence – Self Defence.” Again, only half a lie.

“ _Self Defence_?” Pixie asked, quirking her eyebrow. “You go to such a weird school. What’re you up to today?”

“Cinema, maybe McDonalds later, I haven’t had a burger in _months_.”

“We’re having a party at mine later, stop by if you want, I’m sure the old gang are dying to see you.” She put her arms around his shoulders and kissed him on the cheek. “Your new friends are welcome, if they want to see how the lower class has fun.” She waved and trotted off, walking to some beat in her head.

“We’re not going,” Harry said as soon as she’d rounded a corner. “It’s hard enough lying to one of my old friends, I can’t monitor all of our conversations while drunk.” The three of them breathed a sigh of relief.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure she’s lovely,” Louis said carefully. “But I don’t know anywhere _near_ enough about Muggles to interact with them up close - unless they want to talk about the functions of a toaster all night, I’ve been revising that.”

***

“Any film preferences?” Harry said, staring up at the billboard outside. After much deliberation, and patiently explain to Eleanor that yes, the sound _did_ play at the same time as the recording, he didn’t have to pay any extra, he eventually decided to take them to see an animated film, rather than a live action film with CGI – he could well imagine the long, _long_ conversation he’d have to have about special effects.

His mum had given him a bit of extra money, but when he took it out of his pocket it had mysteriously multiplied – Louis looked overly innocent.

“Louis.”

“Yes, Harold?”

“Explain why my twenty quid for snacks has suddenly increased to eighty.”

“ _Well_ , there are four of us, so we need four of those notes, one for each of us.” He explained it slowly, as though he was talking to a particularly dim-witted child.

“We don’t need eighty quid for snacks. A bucket of popcorn is like, five.”

“Then we can get four buckets of popcorn each.” Harry decided that arguing was fruitless, so he dragged the three of them inside, leaving them in the middle of the lobby while he bought four adult tickets for what was undeniably a children’s movie. When he came back, the three of them were staring at the mirrored ceiling.

“Come on, snack time.”

Louis did in fact buy four buckets of popcorn – one unflavoured, one with toffee, one with sugar, and one with salt ‘In the interests of research, Harold, they obviously taste different!’, so Harry bought them all a drink, while Zayn and Eleanor used the rest of the money on multiple bags of sweets.

“We’re not going to eat all this,” Harry said as they took their seats. They were early enough into the theatre that the lights were still up, and Harry could clearly see the small heaps of food on each of their laps.

“Harry,” Zayn said, staring at a sour gummy worm. “We’re tourists, you have to indulge us. What is this, anyway, it looks terrifying.” He sucked on it slowly, his eyes squeezing shut as the taste hit him.

Harry didn’t remember any of the film. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to watch – well, he’d actively tried to watch the first five minutes, but it was so obviously _preachy_ that he quickly lost interest.

Louis, however, was _very_ interesting to watch. Growing up in Hogwarts, Harry was used to being the kid excited by everything he came across, and he’d always been confused as to why his friends were so endeared by his childlike wonder – now, seeing the exact same expression on Louis’s face, Harry understood the appeal. Louis watched avidly, popcorn ignored, as the characters on screen sang and danced their way through various musical numbers, and he actually clapped at the end – a group of mothers at the front turned to glare at them.

“Can we see another one?” Eleanor asked brightly, taking a long sip from her drink, the air slurping noisily at the bottom of the cup. “And get more drinks and stuff.”

“I don’t think there’re any more cartoons on...” Harry said – they shrugged.

“Take us to see everything,” Zayn demanded, standing up and stretching his legs. “The whole cinema experience.”

“Actually, the typical teenage cinema experience is sitting at the back and _not_ watching the film.” Harry waggled his eyebrows at Zayn, and Louis made a noise like a startled animal.

“Babes, I’m not snogging you at the back of a cinema, you have to take me on a date first,” Zayn said, smirking and raising an eyebrow.

“That’s the beauty of it – the cinema _is_ the date.”

“You’ve got to hand it to them, then,” Eleanor said, picking up one of Louis’s tubs of popcorn and gently steering him out of the theatre. “Muggles know how to get this whole dating stuff done. Can we see a film with attractive guys in it next? Don’t get me wrong, cartoons are great, but surely Muggles do films about romance?” She glanced over at Louis, who was staring into the depths of the salted popcorn.

“Muggles do films about _everything_ ,” Harry said, buying tickets to a rom-com.

“Screen three,” the attendant said with a bored voice, staring into middle-space as she handed him the four tickets. He thanked her, and ushered his friends into the theatre. Louis suddenly appeared at his side.

“Sit at the back.” So Harry did, tucking himself into the corner. Eleanor and Zayn smirked pointedly, but took their seats on Louis’s other side without saying anything.

The second film was much better than the first, probably because it wasn’t aimed at children, and Harry could feel himself getting invested in the main characters – that is, until Louis leaned over to him.

“So, Harold,” he whispered, breath hot down Harry’s ear. “Explain this typical Muggle cinema date, how does it go down, exactly?”

“Well, basically,” Harry muttered back, not taking his eyes off the screen. “Both of them know it’s a date, so one of them makes the first move, then it goes from there.”

“Okay, but what if the ‘datees’ aren’t sure if it’s a date?” He encloses the word with air quotations.

“Then they’d flirt and stuff, I don’t know, the yawning trick? Lou, I never _went_ on a cinema date, I was eleven when I was unceremoniously yanked out of the Muggle world.”

“The yawning trick?” Harry demonstrated, yawning obnoxiously as he slid an arm around Louis’ shoulders – Louis immediately snuggled closer.

“Oh, yeah, there’s something like that in our world, put your arm around them to protect them from a Levithan, load of tosh though, the only way to protect yourself from a Levithan is a Patronus Charm, everyone knows that-” Harry clamped his hand over Louis’s mouth, so Louis licked it.

“Gross.”

“What’s next? On a Muggle date? Or do they just cuddle for the whole thing?” Harry shrugged.

“I mean, if they got this far, both of them probably want to go further, so they’d just kiss each other, I guess.” Louis nodded slowly, opened his mouth to speak, then swore as the credits rolled. When the lights came up, Harry leaned forward in his seat to ask Eleanor and Zayn if they’d enjoyed the movie.

“I wouldn’t know,” Eleanor said snappishly. “I was too busy watching _you two_.”

“It was kind of sad to watch,” Zayn said quietly as they stood outside, waiting for Eleanor and Louis to go to the bathroom. “Like, you were both cuddling, we were _so sure_ you were finally going to make a move.”

“Wait, make a move? Zayn, what’re you on about, Louis’s my-”

“Best friend, I know, but trust me when I say I know what pining for your best friend looks like.”

“Speaking of,” Harry interrupted – he didn’t especially want to continue this conversation. He didn't think about Louis like that. He _didn't_. “Liam’s coming over Boxing Day.” It had the desired effect – Zayn clammed up, staring at the opposite wall. “If you want my opinion, it’d probably be better to face him here than wait till you go back to Hogwarts, neutral ground and all that.”

“Yeah, I know,” Zayn sighed. “I’m not really that angry anymore, you can’t stay angry at Liam for too long, and did you _see_ his face on the train this morning? Ugh, that boy will be the death of me.”

***

The doorbell rang late on Christmas Day – Harry bolted upright on his mattress, dislodging Eleanor’s arm from where it had been flung across his face. He checked his alarm – 3:14 – pulled on his pyjama bottoms, unearthed his wand from under a pile of boxer shorts (not all of which were his), and padded towards the front door. He looked through the peephole – Niall was staring up at the door, wrapped in at least three scarves and two coats.

“Niall?” Harry asked him, pulling the door open slightly. “Uh, that is you, right?”

“In third year you landed me in detention for a month when your Cheering Charm went wrong and I ended up laughing during McGonagall’s speech about the War Memorial service.” Harry grinned sheepishly and opened the door fully. “Sorry I’m so late, I Flooed over to my Great Aunt Bertha’s a few hours ago and had to listen to her explain the trains and buses and stuff, bloody nightmare.”

“Why’re you even here?” Harry said, pulling Niall into the relative warmth of the house. “You weren’t supposed to get here till New Year’s.”

“Apparently I was ‘underfoot’,” Niall said, rolling his eyes. “And my parents are planning a charity dinner tomorrow, so I needed to get out their way before they jinxed me into an early grave. Figured you probably wouldn’t mind me coming early, what with your home for wayward purebloods you seem to be running this holiday.” He stamped the snow off his boots and shook his hair like a bedraggled puppy. “Can I have some soup or something? Feel like my nose is gonna fall off.” Harry led Niall into the kitchen, and rummaged through the cupboards – there was a lone sachet of minestrone soup lurking at the back. As he poured it into a mug and flicked the kettle on, Niall hummed in delight.

“Muggles think of everything, _instant soup_ , brilliant.”

“You mind sleeping on a mattress?” Harry asked as the kettle wheezed. “We haven’t got enough beds, so we’re all on mattresses in my room.”

“Nah, course not. Liam and Danielle still coming tomorrow?” Harry nodded. “Good – I brought their presents with me, and they’re pretty bulky, so I’d have been pissed if I’d brought them all this way for nothing.”

“Harry, dear, is everything – oh, good evening, Niall,” Anne said tiredly, blinking at the two boys sat in the kitchen. “When did you get here?”

“About five minutes ago, Mum,” Harry said. “I’m just feeding him some magical boiled soup, then packing him off to bed.”

“Alright, boys, good night.”

“I bought your mum a present, too, but I wasn’t sure whether you’d find that weird,” Niall said, blowing on his soup.

“Nah, it’s cool. Give it to her tomorrow, we’re doing presents and stuff then.”

***

The first to arrive on Boxing Day were Danielle and her parents, all clad in colour coordinated Christmas sweaters – the look on her face promised a slow, painful death to anyone who mentioned them. She was carrying a teetering pile of presents, all beautifully wrapped in pink and silver.

“Happy Christmas, Harry!” She said, peering around the tower of gifts. “We’re not too early, are we?”

“Niall’s still asleep, but he got here late last night, so.” She grinned widely.

“Niall's here? Does that mean we’re all together to exchange presents? Cool! Oh, yours is on the top, Harry, would you mind taking it before it falls off, it’s pretty fragile!”

“Can I open it now?” Harry asked, taking the box perched at the top.

“No!” Danielle said, sounding scandalised at the thought. “We have to give out the presents _together_ now that we’re all celebrating Christmas with each other!”

“But Liam’s not _here_ yet,” Harry whined.

Danielle put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “He shouldn’t be long.”

“Hey,” Harry said seriously, looking down at her. “I didn’t get a chance to ask you, are you okay?” Danielle looked confused. “You know, about the whole Liam and Zayn thing.”

“Oh, _that_.” Danielle sighed so explosively that it ruffled both her hair and the ribbons on the presents. “It was just a crush on my part, really, made worse by the fact that I thought I stood a chance. It’s better, now, that I know I don’t, I can get over it.” She paused, staring at one of the middle presents thoughtfully. “It just seemed like we were meant to be together, like it was the right thing, so maybe I sort of _convinced_ myself that I had a crush on him?” She shrugged. “Eh, this is too existential for Boxing Day. Mum, Dad, you’ve met Harry, right?” They both nodded abruptly, and Harry remembered that Mr and Mrs Peazer were both very nervous around wizards.

“Lou-Eh, move your damn arse, you're blocking the cutlery!” Came Zayn’s very indignant yell from the kitchen, followed by the unmistakeable thwack of a wooden spoon against a leg.

“They begged Mum to teach them how to cook,” Harry said by way of explanation, inviting the Peazers inside. As they walked through the hall, Niall shuffled downstairs, wrapped in the duvet Harry had hastily retrieved from the airing cupboard the previous night.

“Why’re they _yelling_ ,” he said, yawning widely. “Mornin’, Dani.”

“How was Ireland, Niall?” Danielle said, ruffling his errant hair.

“Same old, you know.” They all entered the kitchen, which looked like a food bomb had hit it. There was flour everywhere, a very enthusiastic Eleanor was peeling potatoes and getting the peelings everywhere, Louis and Zayn were currently engaged in a vicious wooden spoon fencing match, and Anne was watching the scene unfold with equal parts bemusement and fondness. “Wow.” They all looked up.

“Danielle, look, I’m _cooking_!” Eleanor said delightedly, brandishing her potato peeler. “Anne said I could _mash_ them next!”

“After they’re cooked, sweetie,” Anne said, standing up to greet the Peazers, escorting them into the living room.

“Harold, come and defend my honour,” Louis said, waving his spoon. Despite the fact that Zayn had wandered off, talking to Danielle quietly, Harry went over to Louis.

“What did you do?”

Louis gasped, mock offended. “What makes you think this is my fault?”

“Zayn doesn’t attack people with spoons without provocation, what did you do?”

“ _Well_ , I was chopping up the veg, and it just so happens that I was standing in front of the cutlery drawer, so Zayn hit me, so I hit back.”

The doorbell rang, so Harry left Louis to justify his spoon war to Danielle, who was in the middle of a hug from Zayn.

“Sorry, I’m probably really early,” Liam said immediately, carrying bags filled to the brim with presents. “Mum and Dad went shopping, they’ll be here later, they wanted to pick up some presents for your Mum.”

“It’s fine,” Harry interrupted hastily, because Liam looked like he was going to keep talking on auto-pilot. “Everyone’s already here, they’re in the kitchen.”

“...Everyone?” The unspoken name hung in the air.

“Yeah, everyone.”

“How is he?” Liam asked quietly, looking equal parts sad and fond.

“He’s better now, he’ll probably listen to your apology now.”

This was an underestimate – Zayn had been ready to forgive Liam since the second day of the holidays, and he had been _very_ vocal about it.

“Why don’t you just send him an owl, then?” Harry had said exasperatedly one lazy morning – Anne had taken Eleanor and Louis shopping, leaving Harry and Zayn sprawled out in the living room, idly flicking through the television.

“Because we need to talk face to face, and I’d go over myself but I don’t know how to get to his house if I’m not going by broom, and I left mine at Hogwarts.”

“Zayn, if you think I’d let you _fly_ to Wolverhampton during the winter, you’re out of luck.” They were silent for a moment, then Zayn sighed again. “ _What_.”

“ _Surely_ he’s realised I wasn’t going to be angry forever.”

And so the conversation had carried on intermittently through the next few days, until Harry was seriously considering running back to Hogwarts for some peace.

“Go sit in my bedroom,” Harry said, taking Liam’s suitcase and present bags. “I’ll get Zayn, you two can sort this out while I put all the presents under the tree.” Liam nodded obediently, taking his shoes off and padding up the stairs in his socks.

“Who was that?” Eleanor asked as he came back into the kitchen. “Ooh, presents!”

“Zayn,” Harry said – the boy in question jerked his head up. “Liam’s here.” Zayn stood up suddenly and abruptly, before practically storming out of the room, his heavy footfalls banging on each of the stairs.

“So...” Niall said quietly to Harry, barely moving his mouth. “You want to go listen in?” Harry looked in at his mum, who was showing the Peazers' an article in the Daily Prophet.

“Let’s go,” Harry muttered back. Despite the fact that Niall had only spoken to Harry, everyone left the room simultaneously, and squashed together in the upstairs hallway outside Harry’s bedroom. Thankfully for their eavesdropping, Zayn and Liam had left the bedroom door wide open. Unfortunately for their eyes, however, Zayn and Liam had seemed to completely bypass talking in favour of making out on top of one of the mattresses.

“Oh, gross, I was _sleeping_ there last night!” Niall yelled. Zayn and Liam responded by simultaneously flicking the v’s at them, which prompted Eleanor to whoop obnoxiously.

“Okay, we’ve seen enough,” Louis said loudly, shepherding them downstairs again. “Let’s leave them to get their groove on for a bit, we’ve waited long enough.”

***

Dinner had been an overwhelming success, despite how close Louis had come to messing the whole meal up by mixing up the salt and the flour, a mistake Anne had thankfully noticed just in time. Filled to the brim with a lot of food, the seven of them huddled around the Christmas tree, lethargically staring at the present pile.

“I can see one with my name on it,” Eleanor said. “But it’s all the way over there, and I don’t think I can move. This one’s yours though, Nialler,” she continued, passing over a present that looked like it had been wrapped by a five year old. “Sorry, can’t wrap presents for toffee.” The present giving continued in much the same fashion, everyone lazily passing the presents closest to them to their owners, until everyone’s presents were in their laps.

Harry had five.

The first was from Danielle, a Sneakoscope in bright primary colours; she’d attached a card to the box.

‘ _Dear Harry,_ ’ it read. ‘ _Merry Christmas! This is a customised Sneakoscope – rather than spinning whenever someone’s doing something untrustworthy, it should spin whenever someone nearby bears you ill will – neat, huh? I found it in Diagon Alley, I thought it would come in handy! Lots of Love, Danielle_.’

The second was Eleanor, who’d gotten him-

“A _book_? Seriously?” She winked at him.

“Please don’t doubt me.” He ripped off the violently purple wrapping paper – the book was simply titled ‘Potter’. “Remember how Mum works for Hermione Granger? Well, she got advance copies of his biography, written by some guy called Elphias Doge.” Eleanor grinned. “Pretty sure it’s got pictures.”

“Harry, you’re not reading it now, Merlin’s sake,” Niall said, snatching it out of Harry’s hands and putting it out of reach. Harry reached for it with grabby hands, so Niall moved it further away. “Open another present.”

The third present was from Niall – a wooden box.

“Obviously you have to open it, I haven't just bought you a box,” Niall said in response to Harry’s bemused face. Niall tapped the box with his wand. The top of it slid off, and then the sides folded back as easily as paper. Inside was an assortment of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes defence products, including a parcel wrapped in silver paper marked with ‘TEST PRODUCT’. “That’s their patented Covert Cloak, it’s like a better version of a Demiguise Hair Cloak? Apparently. I thought it’d come in use.”

The fourth present, Liam’s, was a delicate silver basin, barely big enough to fit into Harry’s palm.

“It’s a pocket Pensieve,” Liam explained. “It can only hold about three memories at a time, but it’s obviously a lot more portable than a proper Pensieve.”

The fifth present was from Zayn, and came in an envelope.

‘ _Haz, there’s this little Quidditch game on in February between Moldova and England, first time we’ve got to the World Cup quarter-final in centuries – you’re in the private Malik box ;)’_

“Bloody _hell_ , Zayn, how much did this _cost_?” Judging by everyone else’s shell-shocked faces, they had also opened their envelopes – Zayn flushed.

“Rude to ask that.”

“Zayn, I spent less than ten Galleons on you!” Harry said despairingly – come to think of it, all of his presents had paled in comparison to what he’d received. He’d gotten Niall a Honeydukes _selection box_.

“Yeah, but you also got me something I wanted!” Zayn retorted, wrapping himself in the hoodie he’d fawned over when they’d gone shopping the other day.

“Yeah Harry, you’re good at giving presents, it doesn’t matter how much you spend on us!” Eleanor said, gesturing to the pile of Quidditch strategy guides Harry had bought for her. As his friends jumped to defend his present choices, Harry felt Louis press a small slip of parchment into his hand, so when everyone focused their attention on their own presents, he looked at the parchment.

‘ _Meet me in your room._ ’

“Lou?” Harry asked moments later as Louis opened the door to Harry’s bedroom.

“I didn’t know what to get you,” Louis admitted hastily, scratching his head. “I mean, you were already ahead 2-0, what with the GPS thing and that mix of songs I liked from the Muggle radio for my birthday, so I knew it needed to be good, but – you’re so _hard_ to get really good gifts for, you know that? But no one else seemed to have any trouble, coming up with Quidditch tickets and cool gadgets and limited addition biographies, and I didn’t know how to top that.”

“Lou, you didn’t have to get me anything-”

“I did, because _then_ you got me a whole Muggle outfit today, with those great braces and – oh, fuck it, here.” He shoved a box he’d been holding behind his back into Harry’s hands. “It’s dumb.”

Inside was a scrapbook, filled to the brim with wizarding photos of Harry and his friends, and Louis was obviously some sort of espionage photographer, because he didn’t even know that Louis _owned_ a camera, much less carried one round with him enough to capture all of these photos.

“I don’t. Own a camera, that is. It’s Zayn’s, he leant it to me months ago, everyone’s been helping me take pictures.”

Underneath each photo were comments in Louis’s handwriting, ranging from ‘haha this was after i wiped pudding on your face’ to ‘looking good here, curly’.

“Harry, you haven’t spoken in five minutes, put me out of my misery already,” Louis tried to say lightly, but his voice cracked revealingly on the last word. Harry, however, was speechless, and had to articulate his feelings by pulling Louis into a hug. “Oh fuck, you’re best friend breaking up with me, aren’t you?”

“You’re so dumb,” Harry said, burying his face in Louis’s hair and tightening his hold.

***

Whether it was because she truly felt it was a necessary tradition, or that she was getting sick of having seven teenagers constantly in the house, Anne dropped them all off at the ice skating rink on the day after Boxing Day with orders to ‘have fun’. Which, Harry thought mutinously, was highly unlikely, because none of them could ice skate. This had nothing to do with magic blood or Muggle blood – this was literally that none of them had bothered to learn, not predicting that they’d one day end up stranded at an ice skating rink with several hours to kill.

They were all oddly subdued as they pulled on their ice skates, tottering over to the rink like bandy-legged baby deer. Harry got onto the ice first with Eleanor close behind, and the two of them dragged themselves around the outside of the rink, cautiously getting their ice-legs. Zayn and Niall were next, and Niall was the first to fall – as soon as that happens, a tension was released from the group, and they finally began to enjoy themselves.

Almost all of the group, anyway.

“Li, it’s _fine_ ,” Zayn said, skating over to the edge where Liam was still standing off the rink. Harry followed, but whereas Zayn had naturally taken to skating, Harry skated like he was attempting to cut a jigsaw out of the ice.

“Lou, seriously, Niall’s fallen over about eight times, we’ve all fallen over once, you aren’t going to embarrass yourself,” Harry said as he collided with the barrier – he hadn’t mastered stopping yet. He hadn’t mastered stopping at all.

“No, you all go ahead, it’s fun to watch!” Liam said, Louis nodding fervently next to him. “We’ll just stand here and watch you all slide in circles for the next few hours, seriously, we aren’t missing out.”

“Get on the ice,” Zayn said sternly, holding out his hand. “I won’t let go, and I won’t let anyone skate over your fingers.”

“That can _happen_?” Louis screeched indignantly. “What, Liam, no, don’t give in, I – _damn it_ , what a traitor,” he muttered as Liam, very cautiously, put his foot onto the ice. “Stop grinning at me, Styles, if I’d have known this was on the itinerary, I’d never have let you seduce me into being your best friend.”

“Come on, Louis, unleash your inner Gryffindor, I’m sure it’s in there somewhere.”

“...You have to hold my hand,” Louis said, looking at the ice sceptically. “All the time, even when I fall. _Especially_ when I fall, so I can fall on top of you and not bruise myself.”

“Done.”

“None of this skating in the middle malarkey that Zayn’s making Liam do.” Sure enough, Zayn had jumped straight into teaching mode, holding Liam’s hands and guiding him around the rink and – yes, Zayn had already mastered backwards skating. Bastard.

“We’ll stay at the edge the entire time, even if we have to push toddlers out of the way.”

“All right, _fine_.” Louis rolled his eyes. “When I die, tell my sisters I love them.” Harry frowned.

“You have sisters?” Louis stepped onto the ice with all the cautiousness of a kitten with Smarties tubes on its legs, but he managed to break his intense concentration long enough to nod in Harry’s general direction.

“Four.”

“ _Four_? How old are they?”

“Hazza, you’ve _met_ one of them, she’s in your house.”

“Eh?”

“Lottie?”

“Her last name’s not Tomlinson though.” It was true, he _had_ met Lottie, who was about as Gryffindor as they came.

“In this day and age, families can divorce and remarry,” Louis said waspishly, clinging onto the side of the rink for dear life. “Give me your hand, I need to break it.” Harry held his hand out obediently.

“You never told me you had sisters.”

“Never came up in conversation. Seriously, how is this classed as being fun for _anyone_.” Louis took a deep, steeling breath, let go of the barrier with one hand and immediately slapped it into Harry’s, the sound ringing through the rink.

“Want to skate over to Eleanor? She’s just over there,” Harry said, pointing to where Eleanor was stood, leaning against the barrier. Louis nodded grimly, and attempted to skate. “I, no, Lou, you’ve gotta glide.”

“I’m _sorry_ ,” Louis snapped. “I’ve never glode.”

“That’s probably not the past participle of glide.”

“Well, look who’s swallowed a dictionary today.” Harry sighed, took Louis’s chin in his hand, and tilted his head up. Louis blinked, his eyes wide.

“I’m not going to laugh at you, even if you fall over, so untwist your knickers and _enjoy_ yourself.” Louis flushed red.

“It’s not _that_. It’s nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I – ugh, fine, I just want to be _vaguely_ competent at one of these Muggle dating activities, alright?” It was Harry’s turn to blink. “This probably isn’t a conversation we should have in the middle of an ice death trap.” Harry nodded mutely, helping Louis the five feet back to solid ground.

“Right,” Louis began. “It was actually my idea to go ice skating. I asked your mum what Muggles do on dates, and she gave me this list of things to do, but the cinema didn’t work and ice skating is like something from the deepest circles of hell, so suffice to say I am a little moody.”

“Louis, why do you want to go on _Muggle_ dates?” Harry said confusedly – Louis rolled his eyes.

“You really are the most oblivious bloke I’ve ever met.” He paused, apparently thinking, but then he held up a hand. “No, I’ll wait till you catch on, it’ll be better that way, I can be patient.” The jiggling of his leg specified otherwise. “Come on, teach me to ice skate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're at the end of the first half of the story, how very exciting. The next half will be a lot less character driven, a lot more plot driven; there shouldn't be any more filler chapters like these, so appreciate how all of the characters are currently happy.  
> For now.


	11. The Insurgents Regroup

_The room is hazy, dark, but he can very clearly make out the bright blue eyes staring up at him._

_He can also very, very clearly see the lips outstretched around his cock._

_Out of the corner of his eye he can see a pair of eight foot tall ice skates hurtling towards them._

“Lou, we need to go, they’ll cut our fingers off!” Harry yelled, effectively waking himself up and –

Okay, _gross_.

He hadn’t had to do the walk of shame in years, but there’s something intrinsically terrible about having to do the walk of shame after having a wet dream over your best friend while your six closest friends are sharing your bedroom. He shoved his sheets into the washing machine, and glanced at the kitchen clock – 6:12. Well, at least there was no worry of him missing breakfast.

The rest of the holidays had passed quickly, once everyone had sorted out their issues. Eleanor and Zayn had gone home for a few days but had turned up again on Harry’s doorstep by the 29th, grinning sheepishly and asking to stay for the rest of the holidays, as their parents were ‘too boring’. After the debacle that was ice skating (Harry still had faded bruises on his ribs and butt) they’d all taken it easy, sprawled out in the living room for hours on end while attempting to do their homework.

He’d made the mistake of asking Eleanor what Louis had meant by “wait till you catch on”, and she’d looked at him like he was the densest creature she’d ever laid eyes on.

“Poor Harry,” Danielle had said when Eleanor had waved her over and demanded Harry repeat what he’d just said. “It’s okay, we love you anyway.”

“Yes. We love you, Harry. _Love_.” Eleanor said very pointedly, waggling her eyebrows as though she thought herself very unsubtle. Danielle just sighed and threaded her fingers through Harry’s hair. “Ugh, part of me hopes I’m not around when you catch on, it’ll be messy.”

“No, tell me,” Harry whined, pouting. “Because Lou keeps looking at me with these eyes and I’m probably making him sad.”

“Trust me, he’ll be happier when you figure it out on your own,” Danielle said earnestly.

After that, Harry had taken to spending as much time as possible with Louis, in an attempt to figure out _what_ , exactly, he wasn’t getting, but Louis seemed to be acting _completely_ normal. They continued to get up into each other’s personal space, hugging and bumping hands and talking late at night while everyone else was asleep, and Harry continued to get random flashes of odd thoughts in his head, the ones where he imagined what it would be like to kiss Louis, and-

“Niall,” Harry said suddenly, looking up with wide eyes. Niall was staring at the kettle, trying to work out how to turn it on. “Have you ever imagined kissing me?”

“Huh? No, Hazza – I mean, you’re great, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t swing that way,” Niall said distractedly, poking the kettle with his wand – it started whistling ‘Flight of the Bumblebee’.

After that, the thoughts came _constantly_ , and Harry felt horrifically guilty – here Louis was, trying to tell him something, and all Harry could think about was what it’d be like to press him up against the wall.

And _now_ , apparently, he was having dreams about getting chased by giant ice skates while he was getting a blow job.

Peachy.

***

On the day after New Year’s, the day before they were catching the train back to Hogwarts, several owls were waiting at the kitchen window when Harry came downstairs – by the time everyone else had emerged, the owls were gathered around a bowl of water and mealworms, hooting appreciatively as Harry stared, wide eyed and white faced, at the front page of the Daily Prophet.

_FIVE DEAD, THREE INJURED, TWO MISSING – MINISTRY RENOUNCES BLAME_

_In a scene eerily reminiscent of days gone by, five wizards and witches were found dead in their homes on New Year’s Day,_ writes Miranda Upton, Ministry Correspondent. _Among the dead were Mr and Mrs Charles and Annette Brown, Miss Jennifer Anton, and twins Michelle and Felicity Anton, 5. Three are critically injured in St Mungo’s, while two as of yet unnamed persons have gone missing._

_Harry Potter, colloquially known as ‘The Boy Who Lived’, was first on each of the scenes, but refused to comment further to the Daily Prophet than to say “Of_ course _we’re putting our strongest efforts into solving this!”_

_But are they?_

_This reporter has gleaned startling new evidence from a_ very _reliable source that the Ministry is in fact_ refusing _to get involved in this, and that Harry Potter is acting without the authority of his superiors. At a recent press conference, our esteemed Minister of Magic had this to say;_

_“Of course the recent deaths are tragic, but we have discovered no evidence to prove that they are anything other than accidental.” This, in spite of the fact that witnesses claim to have seen the Dark Mark above each abode._

_As if this is not bad enough, recent evidence claims there has been a string of ‘unexplainable deaths’ in the Muggle world, with some sources suggesting numbers as high as 50. If this is the case, there can be no denying that the Wizarding World is plunging into darkness once more – and once again, the Ministry has decided to turn the other way in our time of need._

“Oh no,” Danielle whispered, leaning over Harry with her hands on his shoulders.

“I know the Antons,” Eleanor said quietly. “They were friends with my parents – their daughters were really nice.” Beside Harry, Louis made a noise like a dying cow, prompting everyone to look up. He was clutching a letter in one hand, rubbing furiously at his eyes with the other.

“...Lou?” Danielle said tentatively. He sniffed deeply and looked away from the letter.

“It’s fine, it’s – Merlin, it’s not fine, _fuck_ , what’ve they _done_ -” He passed the letter over to Harry, who adjusted it so everyone could read it over his shoulder.

_Dear Mr Tomlinson,_ it read.

_You may as of yet be unaware of the recent attacks on wizarding homes. At fourteen minutes past ten on New Year’s Eve, a commotion was heard from within the Tomlinson Manor, and at thirty-one minutes past ten the eldest child present, Charlotte Greengrass, informed onlookers that her parents had ‘disappeared’._

_There appears to be no sign of a struggle, which suggests Mr and Mrs Tomlinson left voluntarily – further evidence will be collected, but we have reason to believe the couple in question have been involved in the recent attacks._

_Contact with your parents will henceforth be monitored. Your sisters are staying with your grandparents._

_Hoping you are well,_

_Parvati Patil, Wizengamot Administration Services_

“Fuck,” Zayn said, looking up at Louis. “Want to go see your sisters? I picked up my spare broom from home, it could probably carry both of us.” Louis shook his head miserably.

“No, my family made it perfectly clear they didn’t want to see me.” He blinked. “My parents told me they were _abroad_ for the holidays, what were they doing back here – never mind that, why did they get the girls involved?”

“Louis, you don’t know your parents did anything yet, they might not have-” The laugh Louis let out was something Harry had dubbed his ‘Slytherin laugh’ in his head – cold, empty, like he was judging you from the inside-out.

“You kidding? This is exactly something they’d have got involved in, they’ve never forgiven Harry Potter for overthrowing ‘the natural order of things’.” He slumped down at the kitchen table, head in his hands. “I need to write to Rachel, their PA, she’ll know what to do.” Harry was suddenly struck by how _young_ Louis looked, trying to square his shoulders bravely.

***

The ride back to Hogwarts was subdued, especially as the number of deaths increased over the next few days. Harry had tried to not talk about it in front of his mum, but now that she had a subscription to the Prophet, she seemed _less_ worried than he’d anticipated.

“It’s nicer to know what’s happening,” she explained one evening as Harry was drying the dishes she washed. “I’m not coming up with horror stories of your surroundings magically going up in flames or something, I know what’s happening.”

“Mum,” Harry said. “I’ve been going to Hogwarts for nearly seven years, there’ve never been any spontaneous magical fires except in potions, and the professors know how to deal with magical mishaps like that.”

“I know,” Anne replied. “I still worry, though.” Harry nodded, feeling an odd mixture of guilty for worrying her, and relief that she worried at all.

Louis had closed off completely about his parents, refusing to talk about them whenever Harry tried to bring them up. Rachel had written back with a short, terse note that, summarised, read ‘I have no idea where they are, when they’ll be back, what they’re doing, or why they’re doing it.’ Harry thought she was pretty rude, until Louis explained that the Ministry would be watching all of her correspondences too.

“It’s not fair to her, really,” he’d said, pressing his lips together in a fine white line. “She’s only doing her job, not her fault she works for such tossers.” And he’d refused to say anything more on the matter.

But the deaths were rising, coming in almost daily now, and people were whispering everywhere about how inefficient the Ministry were being, how the Aurors weren’t doing their jobs, there was a _menace_ that no one was doing anything about. And not once did Harry hear anyone other than his friends discuss how quiet the Insurgents were being.

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence,” Danielle said, after she and Liam had come back from an uneventful patrol of the corridors. “In fact, I’m reasonably sure they’ll release a statement in the next few days, saying how they’ve ‘apprehended the criminal’.

She was wrong, but only in the number of days she’d predicted – that night, just as the feast was beginning and McGonagall was standing up to deliver her speech, five black owls flew into the hall, carrying something that looked oddly like a violet, circular piñata.

“Has that ever happened before?” Harry asked Louis – referring to evening post, not to owls carrying piñatas.

“Dunno,” Louis replied, shrugging. “Never seen it before.” Apparently McGonagall was worried by it too – she was making her way out of her seat when the balloon popped, showering the students in violet leaflets – Harry snatched one out of the air.

THE INSURGENTS HAVE CAPTURED THE MENACE

WE’VE DONE IT! YOU CAN REST SAFE IN YOUR BEDS, THE CRIMINAL WAS NONE OTHER THAN MICHAEL ATWOOD, AN EMPLOYEE UNDER HARRY POTTER. WE HAVE BROUGHT HIM IN FOR QUESTIONING.

A cheer rang up from the students, starting small and low until it became deafening.

“This isn’t good!” Danielle’s voice rang in his head, and it was only when he turned to look at her did Harry realise she was using Legilimency to make herself heard over the roar of delight. “They’re manipulating the students!” Harry took her by the arm and pulled her out of the Great Hall, everyone else following as they weaved their way around joyous students.

“When Voldemort rose to power the second time,” Niall said as they all jogged up the staircase, heading towards the empty Gryffindor Common Room. “He kept it all secret, spread fear and mistrust of the Ministry – whoever’s behind the Insurgents seems to be taking a leaf from his book.”

“It’s pretty damn clever,” Louis said, almost appreciatively. “Get the students on your side – because, let’s be honest, if Voldemort had done _that_ , he’d have probably won the war.”

“Never mind your blatant Slytherin boner for underhanded politics,” Eleanor said. “We need to do something!”

“Like what?” Zayn said – not rudely, but as though he was genuinely open to ideas. “I mean, the only thing I could think of was asking Potter or Granger for help, but they’ve probably got enough on their plates.”

“I don’t know, I think they’d be pretty interested to hear about this,” Liam replied.

“Yeah, maybe we could be like, spies for them!” Eleanor said, getting excited by the idea.

“Shouldn’t you all be at the feast?” The Fat Lady said, raising her eyebrow. “And most of you _aren’t_ Gryffindors.” Harry rolled his eyes.

“They’ve been coming in here as long as we have – Alihotsy,” he said – the Fat Lady sighed melodramatically as she swung open.

“Okay, so we write to Potter and Granger... Won’t that take too long though? Isn’t there an immediate way to get a hold of them?” Niall asked. Harry frowned, a vague memory batting at the back of his mind – something about maps, and someone’s address?

“The only thing I can think of is Flooing my Mum to ask for Hermione Granger’s personal address, but she won’t be home until eight...” Eleanor bit her lip, staring at the fire – the memory crashed into Harry’s mind.

“I’ve got Arthur Weasley’s address!” He said triumphantly – this revelation was not met with the jubilation he had anticipated.

“Who, mate?”

“Ron Weasley’s dad, if anyone’s going to have Harry or Hermione’s personal addresses, it’ll be the Weasleys.” Harry charged up the stairs to his dorm, flinging open his cupboard where, sure enough, the Ptolemy book on cartography lay, untouched since his brief foray in the world of mapmaking. As a bookmark, a slip of parchment lay nestled in the book, bearing Arthur Weasley’s address.

“ _Why_ do you have Arthur Weasley’s home address?” Eleanor asked.

“When I was fiddling with that GPS, the witch at Flourish and Blotts gave it to me, but I never needed to use it – Ron and George told me I could call him whenever though, so they shouldn’t mind if I called now, right?” He was rewarded with a mixture of shrugs and nods; Zayn pulls a leather pouch out of his pocket. “Zayn, do you _always_ keep Floo powder on you?”

“It comes in handy.” He threw a handful into the Gryffindor Common Room fire, and they watched as it flared green. The face that appeared in the fire was wearing crooked glasses, and was almost bald – he blinked at them owlishly.

“Hello, boys? And girls. Is this the Gryffindor Common Room? I haven’t seen the inside of this for – Molly, dear, how long _has_ it been?”

“Mr Weasley? I’m sorry to be rude,” Danielle interrupted, twisting her hands together, “but we really need to talk to Harry Potter or Hermione Granger, do you know how we can get hold of them?”

“May I ask who I’m speaking to?”

“I’m Danielle Peazer, this is Eleanor Calder, Liam Payne, Zayn Malik, Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan, and Harry Styles-”

“Harry Styles?” There’s a scuffling at Mr Weasley’s end, a piercing yell of ‘Ronald you’re standing on my _foot_!’ and then three heads are squashed into the fire, pushing each other out of view.

“What’s happened?” Harry Potter said alertly, peering at them – he wasn’t wearing his glasses, so he was squinting myopically. “Is anyone hurt? How did you kids even know we were here?”

“Minerva sent her Patronus to say there’d been an incident, but she didn’t explain any further, we’ve been on the edge of our seats waiting for news-” Hermione Granger said rapidly.

“Isn’t the Hogwarts feast on?” Ron Weasley asked curiously.

“Ron, if you can’t say anything constructive, we’ll bring Ginny in as the honorary Weasley,” Hermione said snappishly, swatting his head with her hand.

“We’re fine, I guess,” Harry said slowly. “But the Insurgents have got most of the school body on their side in one fell swoop – we just thought you should know.” The Golden Trio were silent, and then they all disappeared – a witch Harry didn’t recognise lowered herself gingerly towards the fire.

“Hello, they’ve run off to be Heroes, they should be with you momentarily,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’d be there too, but, you know, pregnant.”

“Oh my God,” Zayn whispered to Niall, staring at the fire. “That’s _Ginny Weasley_.”

“Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies,” Niall replied reverently – apparently Ginny heard them, because she beamed in their direction.

“That’d be me! Nice to be recognised for something other than ‘Potter’s Missus’.”

“Are you kidding?” Niall and Zayn scrambled forward eagerly. “You were the _greatest_ Chaser I ever watched, I really wanted you to get picked for the National team-”

“What do you think are our chances for this year?” Zayn asked – Harry half expected him to pull out a notepad. “We’re watching the quarter-final-”

“Me too!” Ginny laughed, patting her stomach. “As long as this one doesn’t make a fuss. As for our chances-”

“Come on, it’s _me_! Harry Potter? The Chosen One? I went here for _seven bloody years_!” They all turned to look towards the portrait hole – Ginny sighed.

“That’d be my husband – go and let him in, I’ll see you all at the quarter final.” She pulled her head out of the fire, which flickered from green to red again.

When Harry opened the portrait, he was greeted with two very irate wizards and one very exasperated witch, who was in the process of explaining something.

“-like when Sirius tried to get in, she can’t just _let_ past students in on the basis of them previously being students of her house, that completely defeats the object of a password!”

“Would you like to come in?” Harry said politely, drawing their attention.

“Oh, hello, Mr Styles, yes, please,” Hermione replied, crawling through the hole after Harry. “Now, explain, in detail, the events of this evening.” After a brief explanation of the function of a piñata to the purebloods in the room, Harry relayed everything, from the atmosphere on the train to Niall’s thoughts about the similarities of the fear mongering spread by Voldemort.

“Do you have any idea who it could be?” Danielle asked – Harry noticed that she was addressing her question solely to Hermione. He couldn’t blame her, he hadn’t been able to stop looking at Potter since he’d walked into the Common Room.

“We have some leads – a witch and wizard recently fled the country, leaving their children behind, we’ve been trying to locate them...” Louis stood up suddenly.

“Well, this has been fun, but I really need to-”

“Sit _down_ , Lou,” Harry said, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him down next to him. “This is Louis Tomlinson,” Harry said to the Golden Trio – only Hermione managed to keep a poker face, the two men dropping their jaws and widening their eyes.

“Mate, it’s like you and Malfoy being... _Mates_ ,” Ron whispered loudly.

“ _Honestly_ , Ronald, not everyone is as incessantly childish as you are about inter-house friendships.” She turned to Louis. “Yes, as you’re aware, we suspect your parents, but until we _find_ them, there’s not a lot we can do about it-”

“I can personally vouch for the fact that my parents are probably behind everything,” Louis said stiffly.

“Well, of course, we can take your testimony into account, but because of your relationship – wait, you’re _accusing_ your parents?” Hermione said, obviously startled.

“Yes.”

“Oh. Well. Louis, are you sure?”

“Positive.” He bit his lip. “When it inevitably turns out to be them, though, can you try to keep the shit storm away from my sisters? I know you won’t be able to protect them completely, but obviously people are going to come after them-”

“Trust me, Louis, we have experience with helping people whose parents didn’t make the best choices,” Hermione said smoothly, although the effect was sort of ruined by Ron obviously coughing out a ‘Malfoy’. “We’ll keep them safe.”

“What about Louis?” Harry said suddenly, tightening his hold on Louis’s hand. “Aren’t you going to protect Louis, too?” It was odd, seeing three fully grown adults smirk and raise their eyebrows.

“I don’t know, pretty sure you lot have that covered, actually,” Ron said, grinning. He turned serious. “Now, about these Insurgent tossers.”

“ _Ron_!”

“What? Oh, please, they’re seventh years, they’ve definitely heard worse.”

“I think,” Harry Potter said slowly. “We need to ask a favour of you. Could you keep an eye on the students here? You all seem pretty intelligent, try to spread some of that common sense around? Surely you have students who look up to you?”

“Well, I know these two are Head Boy and Girl respectively,” Hermione said; Liam and Danielle flushed a brilliant red. “And there’re three of the four Quidditch Captains gathered in this room alone-”

“And Perrie’s cool,” Zayn said quickly. “She’s the Hufflepuff Captain, she knows what’s what.”

“And then there’s us,” Niall said, grinning at Harry. “Who do jack all in this school.” They fist bumped, and Danielle sighed.

“That isn’t something to be _proud_ of – besides, Harry’s the Gryffindor star Keeper-” Potter and Hermione immediately began singing softly under their breath, grinning at Ron who, although he was rolling his eyes, looked immensely pleased.

“Anyway, Niall’s got his little fanclub,” Zayn said, grinning – Niall actually cricked his neck with the speed he turned to look at Zayn.

“I’ve got what now?”

“Come _on_ , Niall, surely you’ve noticed the girls focus on you the most out of us?”

“Well, yeah, but that’s because _you’re_ all too busy focusing on other dudes!”

***

Despite the rough start to the term, they heard nothing more from the Insurgents – Harry would’ve been feeling relaxed, if it wasn’t for the upcoming match against Hufflepuff.

“Hufflepuff,” Eleanor said, pacing up and down in front of them five minutes before they were due to file out onto the pitch. “Are notorious for pulling out a last minute win against Gryffindor.”

“This is because we always let our guard down,” Harry recited.

“We get too _complacent_ ,” Aiden continued.

“And we can’t let that happen again!” Everyone finished – this had been Eleanor’s speech of the day for the past two months, and Harry had actually heard Aiden recite it in its entirety during his sleep a few nights before.

“This is complacency!” Eleanor shrieked, glaring at them all. “You shouldn’t be mocking _me_ , you should be visualising pummelling Hufflepuff into the ground – remember, our job hasn’t been done properly if they can walk properly afterwards!” She smirked at Aiden, who’d been swigging down some pumpkin juice, which he had ended up spraying liberally over George’s hair.

“Merlin _damn it_ , El,” he muttered, siphoning the sticky juice from George’s hair.

“El,” Harry tried to say calmly. “We are ready. We are _so_ ready. We’ve literally never played better. The only way we could play better is if I break my leg again.” Eleanor crouched down in front of Harry, looking up at him sincerely.

“And I hope you would be willing to do that again, should the game depend on it.” Cher and George looked honestly terrified, but the rest of the team laughed; Harry ruffled Eleanor’s hair, standing up.

“Come on, Captain, let’s go beat the Hufflepuffs.” They filed out onto the pitch to the deafening roar of the crowd, waving to the mass of scarlet and gold.

“Okay, remember,” Eleanor said, looking each of them in the eye as she yanked on her helmet. “It is all about the joy of the game – unless we’re losing, then I want you to all turn into blood thirsty heathens.” They nodded once, engaged in their horrendously difficult Team Shake that was never the same each time, and flew off to take their positions.

Harry scanned the crowd below him, waving at a few people he recognised – then an ungodly loud laugh escaped from him as he caught sight of the banner in the Gryffindor crowd. In a style unmistakeably Zayn’s, cartoon versions of himself and Eleanor were standing on a third place plinth, scowling up at a joint first place Zayn and Louis, who were raising the Quidditch Cup and cheering. Below this were the words ‘THIRD PLACE FOR GRYFFINDOR – GO GO!’ Holding up the banner proudly were none other than Zayn and Louis themselves, waving when they saw they had Harry’s attention. Zayn nudged Liam, who was standing next to him, and he waved, before leaning in close and whispering something in Zayn’s ear. Harry couldn’t understand why they were whispering, it wasn’t like anyone would be able to hear them over the crowd – oh, right, they weren’t whispering.

Harry briefly looked for Danielle and Niall, before remembering that they were probably standing with their fellow Hufflepuffs at the other end of the pitch. He shot a wave in their general direction, and then another at Perrie Edwards, who waved both of her arms in return.

The game kicked off hard and fast, and Harry was right – they were playing the best they ever had. Unfortunately, their best was perfectly matched by the Hufflepuffs, who were matching them goal for goal – literally that, one goal each after two hours of play, because each Keeper was as good as the other.

“Time out!” Eleanor yelled out, quickly agreed with by Perrie at the other end of the pitch, and both teams flew to the ground. “It’s no good playing half defensive and half attack, we need to go all out one way or another.” Eleanor’s initial strategy had been to have a Beater at each end of the pitch – one to assist the Chasers, and one to assist Harry. “I haven’t even _seen_ the Snitch, so there’s no telling when it’ll turn up, it could literally be hours.”

“Play offensive,” Harry said, pulling his goggles off. “Send Aiden up to the Hufflepuff end of the pitch, if him and George play like they did during last practice then I should be fine, the Quaffle will barely come near me.”

“That’s all well and good,” Chaser Greg said, scowling. “But me, Cher, and Josh can’t get anywhere near the goal with Edwards there, she’s like some human blizzard.”

“She plays left,” Harry said – everyone turned to look at him confusedly. “Look, a Keeper always favours one side over the other, right? Like, they’re better at saving one side than the other, so they’ll play slightly on the side they’re _not_ good at.” He could see they still looked confused; he sighed irritably. “It’s easy! I’m better at saving goals that are shot to my right, yeah? So I tend to stick closer to the left goal, because then if the Chasers shoot left I can save it easily, and if they shoot right I can count on speed and skill to save it! Perrie’s the other way, she’s better at saving goals shot to her left, so she sticks to her right, but if you watch her, she’ll automatically assume you’ve caught onto that-”

“Because we have,” Josh said slowly.

“And she always flies the other way!” Cher said, jumping. “So if we pretend like we’re going to shoot that way,”

“Then feint and change course,” Greg continued, his face lighting up.

“Then Perrie will literally fly right out of your way,” Harry finished.

“Okay, that’s all well and good,” Eleanor said, but she was smiling slowly. “But what happens when she cottons on?”

“Then you play her like you would any other Keeper,” Harry finished. “She’ll be thrown off her game a bit, so it should be easier.”

They flew back into the air – of course, while the Gryffindors had been having a strategy meeting, so had the Hufflepuffs. They’d brought both of their Beaters back to protect Perrie, and the Chasers were pulling out all the stops to keep the Quaffle in their possession – Harry waved George over.

“They’re stalling!” He shouted as soon as George was in hearing distance. “Keep an eye on their Seeker!” They both watched the Seeker, who was eyeing not the skies, but the Bludgers. “She’s not concentrating – hit her with a Bludger!”

“What? Why?”

“It’ll throw off the rest of the team, distract them enough to get the Quaffle!” It spoke a lot about George’s unfailing dedication to the team that he did exactly as Harry said, whizzing off towards one of the Bludgers and whacking it towards the Seeker, who shrieked and flew off. Her shriek drew the attention of the Chaser in possession of the Quaffle at the worst possible moment, just as she was passing the Quaffle, and the ball landed neatly in a grinning Cher’s hands, who immediately employed her newfound knowledge of how to get round Perrie.

“That’s 20-10 to Gryffindor!” The commentator said wildly – the crowd, who had been murmuring sullenly for the past forty minutes, cheered.

The game continued from there, but Perrie recovered much quicker than Harry had anticipated, leaving the score locked again at 50-20, after Harry let in a terrifically fast shot. Suddenly, a cheer went up through the audience.

“Is it – yes, _both_ Seekers have seen the Snitch from opposite ends of the pitch!” It was true; Harry could make out the faint characteristic glimmer of the Snitch right in the centre of the pitch, and both Seekers were speeding towards it, bent low over their brooms. It looked like the Hufflepuff Seeker was that little bit closer, but then Eleanor shrieked

“ _NOW_!” and _rolled_ over on her broom, still going at the same speed. Behind her, Aiden and George simultaneously hit the same Bludger, which came hurtling over the top of Eleanor’s broom and towards the Hufflepuff Seeker, who actually wailed in alarm and veered upwards, leaving Eleanor free to catch the Snitch. The Gryffindor side of the crowd exploded with cheers, and the team met in mid air to yell obscenities at each other.

“What the hell was _that_?” Harry yelled delightedly in Eleanor’s ear, who grinned back wolfishly.

“Secret weapon, Dopplebeater Defence-”

“No, _you_! You never told me you could do a Sloth Grip Roll, you have to teach us!” 

The team landed, still laughing, and were engulfed by their cheering friends.

"Fucking  _incredible_ , mate," Louis hollered, flinging himself onto Harry's back. "Proud to have lost to a team like yours.  _And_  I bet Nialler five Galleons on this game, this just gets better-"

“It’s going to be a pleasure to annihilate your team in the next game,” Zayn said, thumping Harry on the arm.

"Good game, Harry!" Perrie said cheerfully, holding out her hand to shake -  Harry awkwardly manoeuvred his arm to shake, as Louis didn't seem to have any intention of letting go any time soon. "It was fun, watching you play properly, I learnt a lot!"

"You're good anyway," Harry said bashfully, putting his arms under Louis's legs to readjust him into a piggyback. "Don't need to learn from me."

"Don't be stupid, I learn from everyone I play against - me and my friends want to join the Holyhead Harpies when we leave school, we need all the advice we can get!" It was then that Harry noticed the Hufflepuff team was a) mostly made up of girls, and b) not overly distraught at having lost a game. Instead, they were having earnest discussions with their Gryffindor counterparts, re-enacting the match. “This is the best part of the match, learning all the stuff!”

“You take this really seriously, then,” Zayn said, tilting his head.

“Oh, yeah! I mean, I’m a Muggleborn, and there aren’t many professional Muggleborn Quidditch players, and _none_ on the Harpies, so I want to be the first!” Zayn grinned suddenly.

“Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet.” He linked arms with her and they walked off, heads close together.

“They’re cute,” Louis said in Harry’s ear. “But, you know, I don’t think Liam has got the right idea about them.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“He’s convinced they’re dating – trust me, I know Zayn, he looks at Perrie like she’s the greatest thing since sliced bread, but he doesn’t want to date her. Like, imagine you were looking at a really nice slice of treacle tart – it’s great, it’ll light up your world, but your dick isn’t going to get-”

“I don’t want to talk about Zayn’s dick!” Harry shouted, laughing loudly.

“What about Zayn’s – never mind,” Liam said, appearing at their side suddenly. “Where _is_ Zayn, by the way? He ran down here to congratulate you, but now I can’t find him.”

“He went to talk to Perrie,” Harry said, pointing in the general direction of the castle. “You could probably catch up with him?”

“No, he probably wants some privacy,” Liam said blithely, stalking off – Harry blinked.

“I see what you mean about the wrong idea.” Louis nodded sagely.

“I am wise to the ways of people who are completely oblivious to everything.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will never admit how long I spent planning out Quidditch tactics. I don't play sport. I don't understand sport. As you can probably tell, Harry's spiel out being a Keeper is Complete Bullshit, but I hope it sounds faintly believable as a Sporting Thing.


	12. The World Cup (Part One)

“Who’re we waiting for?” Liam said curiously as they gathered around the Portkey McGonagall had set up for them. They were rather cramped in her office, but they were all definitely there, Harry thought, counting again just to be sure. Zayn, however, was obviously waiting for someone – he opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Perrie Edwards burst through the door.

“Sorry, sorry!” She puffed, clutching her side. “Was helping Jesy with her homework in the library, lost track of time.”

“It’s fine,” Zayn said easily, scooting over to make room for her. “Portkey doesn’t leave for ten minutes.” She nodded, wheezing – for someone who played Quidditch, she didn’t seem to be great at running.

“Hi guys,” she said a few moments later, when she didn’t sound like her lungs were giving up on working correctly.

“Hey Perrie,” Harry said happily. “I didn’t see you for long after the game last weekend, you honestly played great.”

“Not great enough, apparently!” She said good-naturedly, punching his shoulder.

“Nah, we only won because El caught the Snitch.” Eleanor shrugged, smiling. Harry and Perrie immediately engaged in friendly Quidditch banter, clocking up their relative teams’ points to determine which team was in the lead.

“You’re in the lead,” Perrie said, counting on her fingers. “Ravenclaw are in second, we’re in third, and-”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” Louis said as they both turned to look at him with matching grins. “Trust me, the fact that I’m captaining Slytherin to their worst overall defeat in history is a thought that plagues me nightly. Hey, as long as we score over 270 points overall, at least I won’t be the worst _ever_.”

“Okay, hold on, hold on!” Zayn said, clutching the glowing jar. It was slightly small for eight of them to be touching but they somehow managed, whizzing through the air – Harry, Danielle and Perrie landed with very undignified thumps on the ground.

“Ah, Portkey newbies?” Niall said with a grin, somehow managing to land on the grassy hill _smugly_. “Yeah, you can tell.” Harry responded by lifting his middle finger up slowly and gracefully. “Come on, up you get.” He hauled Harry to his feet, just as Zayn helped up Perrie and Eleanor helped up Danielle.

“We’re staying in the campsite, Dad’s already set up a tent for us, there’re perks to working for the Department of Magical Games and Sports, he’s had tents up for weeks...” He led the way, chatting excitedly to Perrie, Eleanor and Louis. Danielle and Niall followed behind, leaving Harry to walk with Liam, who was being very, _very_ quiet. Suddenly, he broke his silence by blurting out

“Did you know Perrie was coming?”

“Uh, no, why?”

“I mean, I know they’re friends, but Zayn’s barely _spoken_ to any of us since she got here.”

“She’s been with us for ten minutes, Li, and she talked to me for most of that.” Liam frowned at his shoes. “Are you _still_ jealous of Perrie? The fact that you two’ve been dating since December doesn’t-”

“We haven’t.”

“...Beg your pardon?”

“We haven’t been dating.” Liam sighed exasperatedly. “We’re _not_ dating.”

“You make out at least three times a day, I’ve _seen_ you!” Harry panicked – maybe he was seeing things? Maybe he was imagining his best friends kissing each other, maybe he’d completely imagined the last six years, he was going to wake up aged eleven in his bed in Holmes Chapel, very unmagical and about to start Muggle school-

“Yes, but we’re not _dating_ , it’s like a friends with benefits kind of thing.” Crisis averted.

“Oh, please,” Harry scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I caught you fixing his quiff the other day, that isn’t ‘friends with benefits’ behaviour, you two are pretty much _married_.”

“He’s never called me his boyfriend though!” Liam hissed, eyeing the back of Zayn’s head.

“Have _you_ ever called _him_ your boyfriend?” Liam opened his mouth indignantly, then closed it, frowning.

“Pretty sure I would have. I have, haven’t I?” Harry shook his head.

“This is pathetic. Go and talk to him right now.” Harry pushed Liam, hands on his shoulders, until they had speed walked past Danielle and Niall and caught up with everyone else. “I need to talk to you all – not you, Zayn, you stay here with Liam,” Harry said obviously, grabbing everyone else’s wrists and pulling them away (a feat in itself, considering he was pulling three people along behind him).

“What’ve they done now?” Perrie asked, grinning slyly.

“Liam says they’re ‘not dating’,” Harry replied, using over-exaggerated air quotes. “He’s also inexplicably jealous of you, which is why he’s been shooting you pained looks.” Perrie laughed, loudly and suddenly.

“Oh, man, that’s – yeah, no, me and Zayn’d never work out.” She didn’t expand any further, but she kept grinning and snickering to herself as they walked to the campsite.

“Er, we’re _definitely_ supporting England, right?” Niall said, glancing round. “Because we might want to keep that quiet for a bit.” They’d ambled straight into the Moldovan camp, where the tents were adorned with blue, yellow and red banners – a group of wizards were holding a miniature fireworks display, much to the chagrin of the Ministry workers hovering nearby.

“To be honest,” Louis said, threading his arm through Harry’s absentmindedly. “They’re probably just as excited as we are to get to the quarter final, Moldova isn’t exactly known for its Quidditch playing.” He said this last part very quietly down Harry’s ear; Harry shuddered as his cool breath blew his hair gently.

“It’s a weird tournament this year,” Eleanor said thoughtfully. “Because only Ireland got through to the quarter finals out of the top teams, even the _USA_ didn’t get through.”

“No kidding?” Louis said, pulling away from Harry slightly.

“They played horrendously, to be fair,” Perrie said. “Their Chasers were all over the place, the International Quidditch League actually held an investigation to see if their brooms had been jinxed-” She laughed suddenly. “Turns out they’d just been a little _too_ focused on Poland’s cheerleaders, so the whole team’s been benched for the next season.”

“Oh my God,” Eleanor said suddenly, clutching Niall’s arm and pointing. “Isn’t that-”

“Gheorge Postan,” Niall whispered reverently.

“Uh, who?” Harry said cluelessly – they  both just rolled their eyes at him.

“ _Gheorge Postan_ ,” Niall said “is the greatest Seeker to come along since _Viktor Krum_.”

“That is a grand claim, and I demand proof,” Louis said instantly – he seemed to be just as in the dark as Harry.

“Okay,” Eleanor said, lifting a finger for each point she made. “He was signed to the Chisinau Câini when he was just _fourteen_ , he’s already played in one World Cup, when he was fifteen, _and_ he’s the youngest Seeker ever to get MVP for a national Quidditch team.”

“Not to mention the International Quidditch League is thinking of naming a move after him,” Niall said. “The _Postan Passant_ , because he does this think where he attracts the notice of a Bludger and then flies after the other Seeker with the Bludger on his tail – he’s a madman, I tell you.” Niall sounded fond and incredulous of Postan’s skill.

“Yeah, and you don’t hear anything about the _Krum Kickoff_ , or whatever, do you?” Eleanor finished, folding her arms.

“All right, point taken, but Krum is still the best,” Louis said grumpily, but Eleanor and Niall had already left, shyly asking Postan for his autograph in their programs that they hastily bought off a nearby vendor.

They eventually found Zayn and Liam in the England camp, sitting on the grass, leaning their foreheads together and looking overwhelmingly sappy. The moment was somewhat ruined when Niall and Eleanor appeared on either side, within Zayn’s line of sight, and showed him their autographed pictures of Postan – Zayn jerked away, sending Liam flying forward face first into the grass.

“You bastards!” Zayn said, completely oblivious to Liam’s plight. “How did you – when did you-”

“About ten minutes ago,” Niall said smugly, sitting on the grass and smiling adoringly at his program. “While you were off playing the Sir Luckless to Zayn’s Amata, we were meeting famous Seekers.” Zayn smiled at Liam, who was peering up at him.

“Worth it.”

“I am actually going to vomit,” Louis said dramatically, flopping down onto the grass. “With love. Vomit with love, adoration, and a tiny bit of envy.”

“So,” Liam said, flushing ever so slightly pink and occasionally glancing at Zayn, who was still grinning at him. “Beside programs, what else have you lot bought?”

“Nothing, yet,” Danielle said, rummaging in her rucksack and passing two programs to Liam and Zayn. “We wanted to wait for you two, because there’s no point in _all_ of us buying food and stuff.”

Several hours, a frightening amount of money spent, and a crimson top hat the length of Harry’s forearm perched on Louis’s head later, and they were hurrying along the forest path, following the red, white, yellow and blue lanterns.

“How high up are we, Zayn?” Perrie asked, her arm linked with his, while Zayn held Liam’s hand on his other side.

“Box below Top Box,” Zayn said abashedly. “I _asked_ Dad not to pull strings, and his idea of that was having us sit directly below the Minister of Magic.” He rolled his eyes. “Hopefully we won’t be sat with people that’ll expect me to make conversation with them.”

They did end up sitting with people who wanted to make conversation, but Harry couldn’t find himself minding too much – Ginny Weasley was sitting in the same box as them with a blonde witch on one side, and Hermione Granger on the other.

“Ah, so _you’re_ the teenagers we were ‘warned’ about!” Ginny said warmly, beaming. “Good, I had visions of irritating prepubescents acting up through the whole match. You’ve met Hermione, and this is our friend Luna Lovegood.”

“A pleasure,” the blonde witch said dreamily, staring right past Harry and directly at Louis. “You seem plagued by Wrackspurts, would you like some help?” She asked politely, holding up her wand.

“Um, no thank you,” Louis said, stunned. Ginny pulled down Luna’s arm, shooting an apologetic grin at Louis.

“Stop scaring them, Luna,” Hermione said, standing up to shake each of their hands. “How’s school been?” The question was innocent enough, but the flash in her eyes reminded Harry that she probably wasn’t interested in hearing how he and Louis had almost blown up the Charms classroom the other day.

“Better,” Liam said, sitting down and pulling Zayn into the seat next to him; Harry didn’t miss the way Ginny had to bite back a smile. “There’s been nothing else from them, and I think the younger years have just forgotten about it.”

“‘ _A display from the team mascots will precede the match’_ ,” Danielle read aloud from her program. “Ooh, I wonder what Moldova will bring?”

“More importantly,” Louis said, settling in next to Harry. “What’ve _we_ brought?”

“And now!” The Minister said from the box above them. “We wish to welcome you to the Quarter Final match, England versus Moldova – put your hands together for the Moldovan Mascots!”

They’d brought native Goblins, who drummed out a steady, rhythmic beat with their feet as a troupe of ballerinas danced hypnotically. Harry had been to see Muggle ballet once, when he was in primary school, but once again the magical world had decided to take something and make it even more beautiful and intense – the ballet dancers were leaving trails of fire and ice behind them, and taking leaps into the air that lasted too long and went too high to be entirely natural. The audience stamped their feet and applauded when the ballet dancers took their bows.

“And, give it up for the England Mascots!”

A cloud of blue flew across the arena, pulsating and dilating to thumping wizard music. Harry, however, was distracted by Hermione Granger, who looked like she was trying not to laugh too loudly – she had her hand over her mouth, and her face was growing steadily redder. Ginny noticed too, because she looked over, grinned, and leaned in to say,

“Freshly _caught_ Cornish Pixies.” This was apparently too much for Hermione to handle – she ducked her head, shoulders shaking with laughter.

“Well,” Louis said over the din of the crowd a few moments later. “At least that wasn’t horrendously embarrassing, I half expected us to produce some Grindylows or something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, I deleted the majority of this chapter five days ago because I am a prize tool, and today's been the first day I could stand looking at the document without wanting to throw myself against a wall.  
> This little chapter is sort of a peace offering, for making you wait so long - the rest (barring horrific accidents with saving files again) will be along in the next few days, along with some other things I've been writing ;)  
> Thank you for being so patient, you guys are the best <3


	13. The World Cup (Part Two)

“Aaaaaand, here come the Moldovans! Brutka, Vovk, Holub, Gleba, Ivanenko, Turcan _and Postan!_ ” A roar of delight went up through the crowd, and Eleanor, Niall, and Zayn cheered just as loudly as the Moldovan supporters. “And the English – Johnson! Yates! Nash! Percy! Derrick! Derrick! _Aaaaand_ Waters!” They stood up to cheer, stamping their feet and waving their arms.

Harry liked to think he was pretty knowledgeable about Quidditch, but he’d never seen two teams so evenly matched.

And by evenly matched, he meant that they both sucked.

Initially, the crowd had obviously just assumed that the teams were just warming up – but then half an hour passed, then an hour, and _still_ the score was evenly matched at ten points each. Harry looked through his program – apparently, the English team had been cobbled together ‘from the best national teams in the league’, and he could immediately see the problem. The last season had been a bitter rivalry between the Holyhead Harpies, the Tutshill Tornadoes, and Puddlemere United, and the three Chasers had been pulled from each of these teams. They didn’t even seem to be on speaking terms, let alone on the same wavelength necessary for good Chaser play – they were turning to pass the Quaffle to players that weren’t even there. The Moldovan Chasers were a little better, but their hand-eye coordination was terrible.

The English Beaters, at least, seemed to get along – they were twins, apparently – but they were average at best.

The Keepers on both teams, however, were _superb_ , and when Harry glanced down the line at Perrie she had a Quick-Quotes Quill out, and was actually dictating their techniques aloud; she caught him looking and grinned, thumbs up.  It was because of the Keepers sheer skill that the Chasers couldn’t even get near the goalposts, let alone score.

However, Harry found himself drawn to the Seekers’ opposing play styles. The English Seeker, Waters, played at a distance, watching the match like a hawk; Postan, however, got right into the thick of things, flying directly into the scrum of Beaters and Chasers. It worked out well for the Moldovans, who were probably used to Postan’s interweaving flying style, but the English frequently found themselves having to change their flight paths at the last minute, swearing loudly and often.

“And Johnson has the Quaffle! He shoots-” A groan went up through the English supporters. “And it’s saved by Gleba.”

The match carried on in a similar vein – Danielle was absent-mindedly reading her program, not really a fan of Quidditch to begin with, and even Perrie was beginning to lose her enthusiasm as the Keepers started repeating techniques. Then;

“Foul! _FOUL_!” The commentator shrieked, and the English fans roared in indignation. The Moldovan Beater, Turcan, had slammed a Bludger directly at the English Keeper, who’d fallen off her broom with the sheer force of it. “ _Blatant_ use of Bumphing by the Moldovan Beaters, and – yes, the referee is awarding a penalty to the English Team, and – wait, has Postan seen the Snitch?”

Postan was shooting up like a rocket, but he wasn’t the only one to see the Snitch – Waters had seen it too, and she was flying quicker than Postan, and –

“The two Seekers have collided, where’s the Snitch, _where’s the Snitch_?” The two Seekers lifted up their arms – they were both holding the Snitch. “Has this – has this ever happened before?” The referee was waving to the Seekers, who flew down together, neither letting go of the Snitch, as though they did not trust the other to not fly away with it.

“There’re spells to determine who caught a Snitch first,” Louis said, wiping his face – he looked tired and drained. “And whoever’s caught it has brought their terrible team to the semis, where I hope they get annihilated by Ireland.”

“I’m pretty sure Slytherin plays better than either of those teams,” Harry replied, receiving a grin from Louis.

“I played better than that in my first year, it’s not – oh, hey, what’s happening?” For the crowd were cheering, and Harry couldn’t tell which set of fans the roar was coming from. Judging by the victory lap that Waters was doing, however, Harry assumed that the English had won.

“Well,” Ginny said, standing up and stretching her back. “It wasn’t quite Ireland versus Bulgaria, but I’ll take whatever I can get at this point.” She sighed. “I miss Quidditch.”

“I guarantee we’ll get dragged to the next game, sitting in a different box to our significant others because they want some 'bro time',” Hermione said, pulling on her coat and escorting Ginny and Luna away. At the last minute, she turned to look at Liam and Danielle. “Remember, write to me if anything happens.” They nodded, looking incredibly pleased.

“All right, Head Boy, deflate your head a little,” Zayn said, laughing. “Come on, I promised Dad I’d drop in on the Top Box before we left.” He led them up the stairs – Harry stopped beside Louis, who was hanging back slightly.

“Lou, you coming?”

“I’d actually rather not, I’m pretty sure my parents’ friends are up there, and if they’re _not_ I’d rather not get interrogated by the Minister of Magic today.” He glared at Harry, as though he expected an argument, but Harry just shrugged.

“Hey,” he called after Zayn. “We’re going to head back to the tent, I’m not feeling too great.”

“Do you want us to come with you?” Eleanor said, looking worried.

“Nah, Louis’s got me.”

***

Harry hadn’t actually seen the inside of the Malik tent since they’d gone camping after fourth year, but it hadn’t changed at all. Louis, however, raised his eyebrows.

“Oh, they redecorated.” He laughed, slightly bitter. “Well, yes, of course, it has been ten years since I was last in here-”

“Louis,” Harry said firmly – Louis looked up at him, surprised. “Sit down.”

“Um... Okay?” He sat down on the carpet, and Harry quickly followed suit, leaning his back against Louis’s. “What’s wrong, Haz, you sick of my ugly mug?”

“We’re going to have a deep and meaningful conversation about what is bothering you,” Harry said firmly, throwing his arms back around Louis’s waist when he felt him try to get up; Louis sighed explosively.

“You _know_ what’s wrong with me, my parents’ are wanted criminals.”

“Yes, but I don’t know how you feel about that! You hardly tell me anything about yourself, you always deflect – like, with the Augury! I didn’t even know you liked animals until you asked me to help you, and that was literally as a last resort! I didn’t know you had sisters, I don’t know your favourite colour – you’re my best friend, and I know nothing about you!”

“Green,” Louis said quietly. “My favourite colour is green.” Harry turned his head, and then laughed delightedly. “What?”

“Very Slytherin. Go on, keep going.”

“I’ve got four sisters, all younger – the guy you know as my father is actually my step-father, he took my mother’s surname when they got married, but my sisters kept his surname, which is why Lottie’s surname is Greengrass. Um, I love animals, but my parents didn’t think it was a suitable NEWT, so I’ve been sneaking down to help Hagrid with the creatures since the beginning of sixth year. I want to be a teacher, but I’ll probably end up working for my dad, or mum, maybe.”

“And...” Harry prompted, when Louis went quiet.

“I’m thinking, Curly, it’s what we intelligent people do when we’re planning our next answers, so we don’t ramble on with stories pointlessly.” He took a deep breath, his back shifting against Harry’s. “I’m... Relieved, that my parents have finally admitted what terrible people they are. I’m worried that thinking that makes me a bad person. I’m terrified for my sisters. _And_ , I’m in love with... Someone. I’m in love with someone.” Harry forced himself to remain seated, staring at the wall.

“The same someone you wanted to ask to the Ball?” Harry asked, aiming for nonchalance and falling short into selfish anxiety.

“Yeah, it’s been him a while now.”

“...Tell me about him?” Harry wasn’t sure when, exactly, he became a masochist, but sue him, he was curious. This was his best friend (whom he had infrequent sex dreams about, but this was _hardly_ the point), he had a right to know what kind of person was occupying his thoughts.

“He’s great,” Louis blurted out, and he sounded so _fond_ that Harry felt like crying into a pillow like a lovestruck prebubescent. “Like, really great. I’ve known him a while, and, I mean, you know how much of a dick I was, but I tried _so_ hard not to be a dick to him, and it finally paid off recently.”

“I – what, you’re dating him?” Harry asked, sounding shocked.

“Oh, no! I mean, we’re friends now, and it’s great. He’s got all these really cool friends, too, and he’s really nice and brave.”

“Have you... Told him?” Harry said carefully.

“Not yet. I’m pretty sure he feels the same way, actually, but I don’t want to chance ruining our friendship... But, you know, I think he’d be okay with it anyway?”

“...He sounds fantastic,” Harry said irritably – Louis actually laughed.

“He is!” He pulled out of Harry’s grip and crawled round until he was kneeling in front of him. “He’s pretty dense though, so I’d have to do something really drastic to get him to realise that I’m a possibility.” He raised his eyebrows. “And he’s terrible at Defence Against the Dark Arts. Like, wow, truly awful. But when he _finally_ masters a spell I learned in third year he gets this smile on his face like... Like the sun is just shining on him?”

“You should just tell him,” Harry said, folding his arms and glaring at the floor. Stupid floor.

“You think it’d work?” Louis, the bastard, sounded like everything was falling into place for him, even though Harry felt like holing himself into his four poster and not moving forever.

“Sure. Kiss him, why not, he sounds like a _fantastic_ -” Louis pulled his face up and kissed him, throwing himself forward with such force that Harry actually gets knocked backwards slightly. It wasn’t perfect – Louis tasted like junk food, and not the pleasant kind – but Harry was prevented from thinking any further about the kiss when Louis pulled away, his lips shiny.

“You,” he said pointedly, “are the densest, most oblivious boy I’ve ever had the misfortune to like.” He was trying to joke, but he looked incredibly worried, his eyes narrowed.

“Wait, it was me?”

“I told Eleanor that I thought you were just playing hard to get,” Louis continued. “But she said you were just oblivious, and _Merlin_ you were!”

“Why didn’t you just say something?!”

“I thought it was obvious!”

“Kiss me again,” Harry ordered and Louis, looking relieved, does so.

Their second kiss went much better than their first, now that Harry hadn’t been surprised out of his wits. Harry knew he was good at kissing, but he honestly couldn’t remember his other kisses, because Louis seemed to have been _made_ for him. He interlaced their hands, laughing into Louis’s mouth when the action made him shiver slightly.

“A _hem_.”

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Louis muttered, putting his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“Evening, lads,” Eleanor said, pokerfaced as she peered into the tent. “We’ve been waiting outside for ten minutes now, do you mind if we come in? Terribly cold outside, you know, and you’re giving Niall a boner.”

“Ey, fuck off!” Niall shouted indignantly, bursting into the tent.

“Well, my want to continue kissing has mysteriously vanished at the mention of Niall’s boner, thanks for that,” Harry said, putting his hands on Louis’s hips, who huffed a laugh into his jumper.

“As my newly elevated state as your best friend, it’s practically my job to be an awkward third wheel cock block,” Eleanor said, sitting down next to him and thumping his arm. “Good job, by the way, getting your arse in gear.”

“Louis actually came on to me,” Harry said.

“I got tired of waiting for him to have the epiphany,” Louis explained, shuffling off of Harry and sliding into the space next to him. “And hey, why do you suddenly get to be his best friend?” he added, leaning round to look at Eleanor.

“Because he needs someone to go to when he wants to complain about his zits or whatever, and he can’t go to you,” Eleanor said, as though this was painfully obvious.

“You can all be my best friends,” Harry said comfortingly, wrapping an arm around both of their shoulders and putting his feet in Niall's lap.

The peace was shattered by Liam running into the tent, looking terrified.

“Shit!” He yelled. “Zayn, they’re not here!” An answering, panicked yell of ‘ _fuck_!” rang through the tent flap.

“What happened?” Eleanor said, standing up, Harry hot on her lead.

“Perrie and Danielle, we lost them in the crowds, and now there’re rumours of people going round attacking others,” Liam said, already leaving the tent – Eleanor and Harry immediately followed, Louis and Niall right behind them. “It could just be the fans getting a bit rowdy, but-” There was no need to finish the statement – Danielle and Perrie were Muggleborns, after all, and all of them had heard what had happened at the 1994 World Cup.

“We should split up and look for them,” Eleanor said, as Zayn jogged up to them, his sleeves rolled up and wand out. “Come on, Niall.” Louis latched himself onto Harry’s arm, although Harry didn’t see any chance of Liam or Zayn requesting him as a partner.

“Merlin’s sake, Curly,” Louis said quietly, pushing past some hysterical teenage girls. “Don’t do the Gryffindor thing and sacrifice yourself, okay? Just don’t.”

“We’ll be _fine_ , Lou,” Harry said, taking Louis’s hand and squeezing it.

“Not me I’m worried about,” Louis said grimly, which was when Harry remembered that oh, yes, he was a Muggleborn too.

Everyone seemed to be running _away_ in the same direction, so Harry pulled Louis through it, wand raised –

Before running right past Danielle and Perrie, who were trying to run in the same direction as them.

“Where the hell did you go?!” Harry shouted, waving his arms, still holding Louis’s hand.

“We got separated from Zayn and Liam,” Perrie said, her eyes bright and dangerous. “And then these dicks started asking what pretty girls like us were doing alone, and _then_ -”

“The Insurgents are here,” Danielle said, cutting Perrie off. “They attacked the boys harassing us, but I just saw those guys again, wearing Insurgent masks, so something’s definitely going on.”

“Oh, they have masks now?” Harry asked.

“Apparently they learnt their mistake when Potter identified them,” Danielle said, drawing confused looks from Louis and Perrie.

“So, what now then?” Harry asked, dodging around a wizard in a night cap and dungarees.

“We were trying to find out what’s happening that way,” Perrie said, waving her hand generally. “See if we can help.”

“Right, well, we’ll need to stick together – and we need to get a message to the others, tell them we’ve found you-”

“Expecto Patronum!”

“Um, Louis,” Harry said, staring at Louis’s Patronus. “Not really helpful.” Louis just ignored him, and turned to his Patronus.

“We’ve found the others, we’re heading for the centre of mayhem, feel free to come with.” His Patronus nodded and weaved through the crowds. “Flitwick taught me.”

“You’re amazing,” Harry said, awed.

“You need to teach me,” Danielle said eagerly, staring after the white trail the Patronus had left.

It was easy to see why people were running _away_ from where chaos was reigning, because a very intense wizard duel was going on, spells flying everywhere. These Insurgents were not the ones that had been sent after Harry, these ones obviously knew what they were doing – unfortunately, this time they were being duelled by Harry Potter _and_ Hermione Granger, so they didn’t really stand a chance.

A very noticeable spell, bright green and crackling, flew past them, almost grazing Harry’s cheek – he whirled around to check on Louis, who’d thankfully ducked, his eyes wide and terrified.

“Lou, we need to get out of here, this is way out of our depth, get the girls and let’s _go_!” He shouted.

“But the others, they’re heading right this way!” Louis shouted back – Harry wanted to scream in frustration.

“Okay, uh... Shield Charms! We could put a bubble of Shield Charms up, contain some of the-”

“It’s the Styles kid!” One of the Insurgents shouted, pointing. “Grab him!” Potter swore loudly.

“Why are they _always here_?” He shouted, Stunning the one who’d issued the order for Harry’s kidnapping.

“Now I see why everyone despaired at us!” Hermione yelled back, running over to them, shooting spells over her shoulder. “You all need to leave, and you need to make sure you don’t get hurt!”

“Our friends are heading this way, we can’t leave!” Danielle said, eyes blazing and face furious.

“Then stay low, keep Mr Styles safe, and _don’t_ do anything stupid!” She ran back into the fray.

The battle got nastier, because now the Insurgents were aiming for a specific target – namely Harry. They didn’t seem to want to kill _him_ , but they obviously didn’t hold his friends up to the same standard – three times they had to pull each other out of the way of Killing Curses. Eventually Liam, Zayn, Eleanor and Niall appeared, wands out and ready. Louis didn’t even let them draw to a stop before he was chivvying them away, pushing Harry in front of him.

“We need to get Harry out of the way, these nutters are after him!” They pushed each other through the crowd, running as fast as the press of terrified people would let them. They arrived back at the tent, where Mr Malik was waiting for them, holding out a wellington boot.

“This will take you back to Hogsmeade,” he said, holding it out to them; he turned to Zayn. “We will discuss your flagrant disregard for your own safety when you next come home, but in the meantime, get yourself and your friends to safety.” Zayn nodded, biting his lip.

“Be careful, Dad,” he said. The Portkey pulled them away, and Harry managed to land on his feet – before toppling to the ground again, pulling Louis with him. Hogsmeade was deserted, colder, and darker and Harry, who'd left his coat in the tent, shivered.

“We should see about getting a room for the night,” Danielle said, brushing herself off briskly as she stood up. “We won’t be able to get into Hogwarts this late at night.”

“Actually,” Louis said, shoving Harry off of him. “We can, there’s a secret passageway into the school through the Shrieking Shack.”

“How the _hell_ do you know that?” Niall asked him, staring at him incredulously.

“I’m a Slytherin, it’s my job to know everything I can about the school – I know _loads_ of secret passageways in and out of the school.” He held out his hand and pulled Harry up, not relinquishing his hold as he led them towards the Shrieking Shack.

Harry, of course, had never been inside the Shack, but Louis and, strangely, Perrie seemed to be seasoned veterans, dodging around rotting floorboards and missing stairs with agile feet.

“Me and my friends explore a lot,” she said at everyone’s impressed faces. “Like, we’re in one of the most wonderful places in the world, I’m not going to leave without trying to uncover every single one of its secrets! Oh, hit that knot in the wood there, would you, Liam?” Bemused, he did as she asked. “Thank you, I just didn’t fancy getting bludgeoned to death by the Willow! That knot freezes the branches.”

"Oh, didn't know it did that, cool," Louis said thoughtfully.

“The – the _Whomping Willow_?” Danielle said, slightly hysterically.

“ _Cool_ ,” Eleanor said, grinning manically.

“Louis Tomlinson, you’ve led us into the Whomping Willow?” Danielle shrieked, abandoning all pretence of calmness. “And what, we were just going to _dance_ our way through the murderous branches of death?”

“No, we were going to freeze them with our wands,” he said, as though this was very obvious.

“Oh, yes, because we’d be _such_ good shots while branches are hurtling towards us!”

“Guys, _guys_!” Niall said. “Look, we’re all tired and stressed, let’s just leave it, huh?” Danielle nodded, her lips pressed together. They all walked up out of the tree, across the grounds, and to their dormitories in silence - it wasn't until Harry and Eleanor got to the base of the Gryffindor dormitory stairs that she turned to him.

"That was  _such_ a shit game." She looked genuinely perturbed, as though this, rather than the Insurgent attack, was what had ruined her day.

Knowing Eleanor, this was probably true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably merge this with the previous chapter at some point for added coherency, but again, thank you for your patience, you guys are the BEST <3


	14. Something Wicked This Way Comes

“I’d like to apologise,” Danielle said at breakfast the next morning, looking at Louis seriously. “I was out of line, last night.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Louis said, waving her off. “No, seriously, don’t, we have much bigger things to worry about.”

“I know,” she replied, sitting down and spooning some porridge into her bowl. “Our exams are only a few months away, and-”

“I think Lou was talking about the Insurgents at the Quidditch match?” Liam said, gesturing to that morning’s Daily Prophet – ‘ _EIGHT DEAD, MANY MORE MISSING AND INJURED’._

“No, I was actually referring to the exams,” Louis said.

“Ha, very funny.”

“I’m being serious!” Harry stared at Louis, who did in fact look very earnest. “We’ve been building up to this for years, are none of you even the _slightest_ bit worried?”

“Well, yeah,” Liam said slowly. “But you once said exams were the festering wart on the backside of wizarding school, so I just assumed you didn’t bother with them.”

“They _are_ a festering wart,” Louis said, far too loudly for such a sentence at meal time. “That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do well – got four sisters I may end up having to support, you know.” Harry squeezed his hand under the table.

Dating Louis was very much like being his best friend, except now they occasionally dragged each other to make out in a broom cupboard – Harry definitely approved of the latter development. However, what with Quidditch practices, exams, and the recent stringent safety measures McGonagall had imposed (including the cancellation of the Valentine’s Hogsmeade trip, which had gone down horrifically with the vast majority of the students), they weren’t really getting to spend much time with each other alone.

“It’s only for a few months,” Louis had said reasonably, when Harry actually broke into the Slytherin Common Room, flopped onto one of the sofas, and bemoaned the fact that his boyfriend would rather spend time in the dank Slytherin Common Room without him. “Then we leave, and we can spend as much time together as we want.”

Harry had smothered a grin into one of the silver satin cushions (and seriously, who made _satin_ cushions, you slid everywhere on them, he'd fallen off the sofa once when he'd attempted to instigate a makeout session with Louis), trying not to give away his joy that Louis was planning a future for them beyond the walls of Hogwarts.

“More important than all of that, though, is that the final Gryffindor Quidditch match is coming up very soon-”

“In a month, El.”

“A month that we shall spend training until we are sick to death of Quidditch,” Eleanor said, leaning over the table and tapping Harry’s nose with her spoon.

She was true to her word – the next month was almost daily practices, and Harry became very intimate, not with his boyfriend, but with the nuances of his own broom, absolutely no innuendo. Hell, even being intimate with his ‘broom’ would’ve been a relief, but Eleanor was working them all so hard that he was falling into bed each night, fully clothed, with only just enough energy to think ‘huh, another night I haven’t-’ before sleeping like a log for a few hours, lather, rinse, repeat.

The night before their final match, Eleanor grinned at them wearily.

“You know the drill, guys. You know what score we need to win the cup-”

“We can only lose by fifty points, if we have to lose at all,” they all recited.

“But that doesn’t mean we should play lazily, because Malik has put together an _impressive_ team this year, and it’ll be so much sweeter to win the Cup with the memory of their loss fresh in our minds.” With that she waved them up in the air to just fly off their restless energy and practice their best moves for half an hour, and then sent them all off for an early night.

Harry was looking forward to an early night – however, something seemed to be against him, because when he got to his dormitory, Louis was reclining on his bed, reading his Charms book with his glasses on.

“Oh, you’re early,” he said, closing the book. “Damn, I was hoping to be spectacularly naked before you got in.”

“Can we postpone the nakedness? I really need to sleep,” Harry said morosely, because the idea of a naked Louis was suddenly much more appealing than a decent night’s sleep.

“How about till tomorrow, as a 'well done for winning' thing? Do you want me to go now?” Harry shook his head.

“No, stay, you can play with my hair or something while I sleep.”

***

The next morning at breakfast, the Great Hall was buzzing with anticipation, and the two Quidditch teams were the hub of the chaos. Of course, as the Ravenclaw Captain, Zayn was sitting with his own team, and Liam was right by his side, grinning proudly and wearing Zayn’s Beater helmet. However, Niall and Danielle were flitting between the two groups, and promised to cheer for both teams equally. Harry hadn’t wanted to wake Louis up before he left heinously early, so he didn’t appear for breakfast before Harry had to leave.

“...Okay,” Eleanor said quietly, looking at them all. “We are a fantastic team, the best I’ve ever Captained, so however this goes, I know we’ll have played our very best. Would I like to win? Yes. Will I be bitter if we lose? A little. Okay, a lot. But we _won’t_ lose, will we?” She looked dangerous and slightly manic, so naturally they all agreed with her. “Okay, brooms out, people, let’s show the Ravenclaws what we’ve got.”

“Would this be a bad time to make a joke about impressing the Ravenclaws with our broomplay?” Aiden said, nudging Eleanor as he pulled on his helmet.

“Yes,” she replied, lips twitching.

***

They _won_ , but only by a margin of ten points. There was a moment of silence on the pitch, then the commentator, a sixth year Gryffindor, seemed to realise what had happened.

“360-350! Gryffindor wins the Quidditch Cup!” Harry found himself in the centre of a mid-air dog pile, Cher wordlessly shrieking in his right ear and George sobbing down his left. Meanwhile, Eleanor was hugging Zayn tightly, laughing and crying simultaneously.

Before they could meet up with their friends, the Gryffindor team were shepherded into their changing room by a very gleeful McGonagall who, upon exiting the room, merely told them to ‘have fun’ at the after party. Harry sat on one of the benches and kicked off his shoes, wriggling his toes. But before he could relax fully McGonagall came back in, almost grey in the face.

“You all have to return to your dormitories immediately, there’s been an incident. Professor Hagrid will escort you, leave your belongings behind.” Eleanor raised her eyebrows at Harry, and he nodded imperceptibly. They hung back, waiting for their teammates to file out, and then turned to McGonagall.

“Professor, what happened?”

“The Ravenclaw changing room caught fire moments ago, with the team still inside - where do you two think you’re going?” For Harry and Eleanor had charged off towards the Ravenclaw changing rooms – a small crowd of stubborn students, friends of the team, were crowded around the building. Smoke was billowing out of the cracks between the stone.

“We can’t get in,” Liam said by way of greeting, pacing back and forth, his wand sparking black and blue in his hand. “Because we don’t know what kind of fire it is, and even if it’s just a regular fire then opening the door might cause the fire to spread from the increase in oxygen.”

“We only know that it’s not Fiendfyre, because the fire would be far more erratic if it was,” Danielle said, staring at the blazing building. She was sat on the grass, tapping her wand on the ground rhythmically, almost as though she was counting.

“What happened?” Harry said, his lips numb.

“I was coming over to talk to Zayn,” Niall whispered, pale and red-eyed. “As soon as the last of them, that sixth year Swift, I think, stepped into the building and shut the door, the whole place went up in flames.”

“Professor McGonagall?” Danielle said suddenly. “Is there a way spells can be set to trigger after a certain event, like a circuit closing? Because I didn’t think magic could work that way, so I think we’re dealing with an amateur Muggle bomb, or a mine, maybe, activated from a distance.” She relayed what Niall had said. “I think the fire was maybe set off by the closing door.”

“It’s entirely possible, but who would have access to Muggle explosives?”

“This is great and all,” Liam said sarcastically, pointing his spitting wand at the building. “But knowing what’s _burning_ them to death isn’t going to stop it!”

“Can’t we just apparate in and get them out?” Niall asked.

“Nope, apparition restrictions can only be bypassed by the Headmaster,” Eleanor said.

“And we have to consider that our attacker is waiting for an opportunity like that,” McGonagall said.

“So, if it’s a Muggle fire, won’t water work fine?” Harry said. “Li, I know you said opening the door would probably cause the fire to spread, but if we all stand at the ready with water, we should minimise the damage?”

“Apart from the Ravenclaw team, who might just get roasted alive,” Liam said mockingly.

“They’re _Ravenclaws_ ,” Harry bit back. “You can’t honestly tell me they aren’t all performing max strength Shield Charms right now!”

“Guys, guys!” Danielle said, jumping up and standing between them, a hand on each of their chests. “Stop it! Professor Flitwick,” she continued, once she was assured that Harry and Liam weren’t going to jump at each other. “Would a Flame Freezing Charm be beneficial?”

“A what?” Niall asked. “We’ve never done that in Charms.”

“No, but I came across it during our second year summer when we were doing that essay on witch hunting for History of Magic.”

“How do you even _remember_ -”

“Yes, Miss Peazer, I believe it would,” Professor Flitwick said, pointing his wand at the changing rooms – a white glow bathed the changing room. Liam turned to Harry.

“Let’s try this water idea of yours, then.” They both ran at the door, ramming into it with their shoulders.

Inside, the room was thick with smoke and fire; Liam cast a Bubble-Head Charm on the both of them, while Harry cast Ventus to blow the majority of the smoke out of the door. The Ravenclaw Quidditch team were revealed to be huddled in the corner behind, as Harry had said, a very strong Shield Charm. They were all crouched around someone laid out on the floor, their wands working so quickly they were almost a blur. Taylor, the Ravenclaw Chaser, looked up at their arrival.

“We need a stretcher, hurry up, he’s lost a lot of blood!”

“He who, he _who_?” Liam said desperately – the boy sat up.

“Liam, I’m _fine_ ,” Zayn said, rolling his eyes. “I just hit my head on the bench when the explosion went off, I’m not _dying_. How’re you not dying, by the way?” His tone was conversational, as though it was a regular occurrence to have one’s surroundings go up in flames.

“Flame Freezing Charm,” Liam said weakly, staring at Zayn, as though he expected him to vanish before his eyes; Zayn nodded, looking irritated.

“Should’ve thought of that myself. Does that mean I can drop the Shield Charm? Probably not helping the bleeding from my head, keeping this up.” He dropped it anyway – the whole team instantly began coughing and running towards the exit, their arms over their heads and robes pulled up to their mouths. Zayn stood up cautiously, obviously woozier than he’d made out. Liam hovered over him, reaching out whenever he looked especially unstable.

“Why didn’t you just suture it shut, I know you can do that?” Liam said.

“Well basically what happened was a load of debris fell from the ceiling,” Zayn said, swaying slightly – he put his hands on Liam and Harry’s shoulders for support. “And a huge bit hit Katie and trapped her, so after I rounded up the team I had to drag her out, then I put the Shield Charm up so they wouldn’t all cook, _then_ I was trying to mend her leg so we could all run for it if necessary, and by then it” he pointed at his head “was too messy to suture, and Taylor refused to use _Vulnera Sanentur_ because she’d only learned about it theoretically.” Liam stared at Zayn. “What?”

“You just... I...” He leaned forward and kissed Zayn on the cheek, the pair of them grinning at the action.

“This is _really nice_ and all, but we are surrounded by fire and smoke and death,” Harry said idly. “Care to take this outside, where I’m won’t be a lame third wheel?” He shoved them outside, where Madam Pomfrey was already waiting with a magical stretcher and some very nervous onlookers.

***

Zayn hadn’t been allowed to have visitors, nor had any of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.

“I _need_ to talk to him,” Liam had tried to reason, peering past McGonagall into the Hospital Wing.

“I’m sure you do, Mr Payne,” McGonagall had said calmly. “But until we have any leads on who caused this, we have to assume that the Ravenclaw team are at risk – we’re interviewing students now, to see if any of them noticed anything suspicious. Did _you_ notice anything suspicious?” She added, looking at all of them – they shook their heads. “Well, regardless, you’ll all have to be interviewed anyway, especially you two,” she said to Harry and Eleanor. “Because you’ll both be prime suspects, as the opposing team.”

“Professor, you don’t _really_ think the Gryffindor team had anything to do with this, do you?” Niall said, as Harry and Eleanor went pale. “I mean, Harry and Eleanor have been friends with Zayn for nearly seven years, you don’t think-”

“Of course I don’t,” McGonagall said briskly. “I personally think this is a much more serious matter, but I wish to clear the names of my Quidditch team before anyone has a chance to place the blame on them. In the mean time, I suggest you return to your dormitories.”

“Um, Professor?” Danielle said timidly as Harry turned away. “Could I speak to you for a moment?”

“Of course, Miss Peazer.” Eleanor and Harry veered off to go to the Gryffindor common room.

“That could’ve been us,” Eleanor said quietly; Harry didn’t need to ask what she was talking about. “And I wouldn’t have known what to do, not like Zayn did.”

“Me neither.”

“Maybe... Maybe that was intentional?” Eleanor suggested, her brow furrowed. “I mean, anyone who’s _heard_ of Hogwarts knows that Ravenclaw is the smart house, why target the Ravenclaws when the Gryffindors would end up with more casualties?”

“Have you talked to any of the teachers about this?” Eleanor shook her head.

“I might mention it, I don’t know, it’s just speculation, really.” She sighed. “I don’t really want to have a party tonight, you know, I don’t think it’d be right, with the Ravenclaws in the Hospital Wing and all. You want to go to the kitchens instead?” Harry shrugged – more than anything he wanted to go to bed, but it was only three in the afternoon.

“Hi guys,” he said to the House Elves, after a silent and morose walk to the kitchens. They all bowed low in one eerily synchronised movement. “Could we get a sandwich?”

“Of course, Master Styles,” one of them squeaked, already producing a plate of sandwiches. “We’ve had many students in the last while, some of them is hungry, some is... not.”

“What do you mean?” Eleanor said curiously.

“Some is coming for information, Miss, we hears lots down in the kitchens.”

“Hush-it!” Another House Elf squealed, swatting the first with a tea-towel. “The students is not to be told, the teachers forbade it!”

“What can’t we be told?” Harry said, crouching down so that he was eye level with the Elves. “We won’t tell anyone you told us!” They shifted guiltily, then one, who barely came up to Harry’s knee, stepped forward bashfully.

“They has taken someone in for questioning about the fire, Sir,” she said quietly. “We heard the Slytherins say that it was Mr Tomlinson, Sir.”

“But that’s impossible,” Harry laughed, shaking his head. “He was watching the match!”

“Harry,” Eleanor said carefully. “Did you actually _see_ him in the crowd?”

“Of course I-” He stopped – _had_ he seen Louis in the crowd? Granted, he was pretty high up in the air, but he’d seen Louis during the match against Hufflepuff, he wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. And he hadn’t seen him after the match, either during the very brief victory period, or outside the Ravenclaw changing room. “Do you know who’s interviewing him?”

“The Headmistress is said to be interviewing him, Sir.”

“Harry, you _can’t_ go in after him!” Eleanor said, following Harry hastily as he stormed out of the kitchen, throwing a quick ‘thanks’ over her shoulder to the House Elves.

“I’m not, I’m going to wait outside her office until he gets out, he’s going to need me there.”

“Harry, what if... What if he _has_ done it? You know who his parents are, after all, maybe they’ve-”

“But why would _Louis_ target the _Ravenclaws_? He thinks the world of Zayn, it doesn’t make any sense!” Eleanor shrugged, but followed Harry to McGonagall’s office anyway. The two of them sat against the wall opposite the entrance, Eleanor idly flicking her wand to light and extinguish the torch above them.

When Louis finally emerged, half an hour later, Harry and Eleanor were dozing on each other, Eleanor’s head on Harry’s shoulder. It took Harry a few dazed seconds of mindless smiling to remember that he’d actually been _waiting_ for Louis – he stood up, effectively dislodging Eleanor onto the floor.

“What happened?” Louis was – Louis looked _awful_. He was jittery and skittish, eyes flickering everywhere.

“Bad reaction to Veritaserum, I’ll be fine in half an hour.”

“She used _Veritaserum_?”

“I told her to, because I couldn’t give her a decent alibi for where I was. That’s why I was a suspect, apparently some student had come forward to say they’d noticed I wasn’t at the match. Even out of the _country_ my parents are still an unwelcome intrusion in my life.” Louis laughed too loudly.

“Where were you?” Harry said, rubbing his face. He removed his hand just in time to catch Louis looking _extremely_ guilty. “Louis?”

“The Owlery?”

“Right...? Why’s that a bad thing?”

“Because I was trying to get a message to my parents,” Louis said uncomfortably. “Their PA’s got a room in Hogsmeade for the week, so I’ve been sending her owls all day.”

“Louis, what’s _wrong_ ,” Harry said, putting his hands on Louis’ shoulders.

“I don’t want to tell you, you’ll just do that thing where you worry too much.”

“Tell me.”

“The money’s gone.”

“What money?”

“Our money, all of it! I got a letter from one of the Goblins at Gringotts, confirming that an unidentified source has withdrawn all of our money, and Rachel can’t get hold of either of my parents, so I can only assume they’ve officially gone into hiding for good. Which is great and all, but the holidays are in a few weeks, what am I supposed to do without any money?”

“Come on,” Harry said. “You can stay the night in the Gryffindor Common Room, it’s been a long day, and you’ll probably need people around you for a while.”

It was early evening when they finally made it back to the Common Room, after making a detour back to the kitchens for some dinner. The effects of the Veritaserum wore of suddenly, leaving Louis lethargic and dull at the edges, so Harry had to practically carry him up the staircase to the seventh year boys dormitory; he fell asleep almost straight after dropping onto Harry’s bed, face first. When Harry got back downstairs, the Gryffindor Quidditch team was gathered around the fire, staring at the ground.

“For what it’s worth,” Eleanor said suddenly, drawing their attention from where she was standing at the bottom of the girls’ dormitory stairs, already wearing pyjamas and a crimson dressing gown. “I’ve never been prouder to be your captain than after today’s game. But I have to ask – did any of you have any hand in today’s events?” The team shook their heads earnestly, and Harry believed them. “We’ll postpone the party until after the Ravenclaw team are out of the Hospital Wing.”

The Ravenclaws got out the next day, but it took so long for each student in the school to be interviewed that by the time the interviews were done, the Gryffindor team had lost the immediate post-match buzz necessary for a party – besides, there were more immediate things to be worried about.

“They got onto the _grounds_?” Harry hissed to Danielle during Arithmancy – she nodded seriously.

“I shouldn’t really be telling you this at all, McGonagall expressly told us not to mention it to any of the students.” Harry merely raised an eyebrow. “Yes, they got onto the grounds. The teachers inspected the school – there’s a passageway behind the mirror on the fourth floor that everyone thought had caved in? It’s been cleared out, it leads to Madam Puddifoot’s, whoever set off the fire probably came through there.”

“I _knew_ that place was bad,” Harry muttered, flashbacks resounding in his head of a terrible date in his fourth year with a seventh year Ravenclaw.

“But Harry,” Danielle said, and she was chewing on her lip somewhat worriedly. “Who do we know who knows a lot of passageways into the school?”

“Louis, but I – _wait_.” He glared at her, and she flinched. “You’re not seriously accusing _Louis_ , are you?”

“Well, there’re a lot of things that don’t add up!” She said hastily, holding up her hands defensively. “Why does he know so much about the passageways? Where was he during the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Quidditch match? And then there’s the matter of him practically _leading_ you to the Insurgents at the Quarter Finals – not to mention his parents!”

“...It was you, wasn’t it? Who went to McGonagall.” A memory flooded back into Harry’s head. “When we were outside the Hospital Wing, you stayed behind to talk to her.”

“Yes, that was me, you have to admit it’s very-”

“He was trying to get a message to his parents,” Harry admitted quietly, lowering his voice when Professor Vector glanced over in their direction. Danielle looked triumphant. “Because all the money’s gone. His parents’ took all of the money, and now he has no way to look after his four sisters.”

“I – how do you know he’s not lying?”

“Because he made McGonagall dose him up on Veritaserum, and he was still buzzing from it when I went to pick him up from her office.”

“Um, okay, what about the passageways?”

“ _Perrie_ also knows a lot about the secret passageways – more than Louis, in fact, are you accusing _her_?”

“Alright, _fine_ – what about the Quarter Finals?!”

“Danielle,” he said tiredly, closing his eyes. “We were looking for you and Perrie – _you_ led us to the Insurgents.”

“I – _shit_ ,” she said guiltily, hanging her head and sniffing. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Look, I’m really happy that you’d go to such extents to look out for me,” Harry said gently, taking her hand and squeezing it. “It’s really sweet. But maybe... Maybe you and Louis need to talk?”

“What about?”

“I don’t think you’ve forgiven him for how he used to be – understandable!” Harry added. “I’m not excusing how he used to be. He was a colossal dick.” Danielle gave a watery chuckle. “But I think he’s proved that he’s loyal to us, considering he’s dating me and everything-” Danielle gasped, drawing the attention of half of their classmates.

Flushing, she whispered, “You two are _dating_?” under her breath. Harry almost laughed, but then he realised she was actually being serious.

“Uh, yeah?”

“How long?!”

“Literally just after the Quarter Finals. Seriously? It’s been a month, how haven’t you noticed?”

“You’re both acting exactly the same, you’ve pretty much been co-dependent on each other for as long as you’ve been friends.”

“‘spose you’re right,” Harry said thoughtfully. “I should up the ante, he might get bored otherwise.” Another weak giggle from Danielle. She looked up – her eyes were slightly red, but aside from that she looked completely fine.

“Can you promise to do something for me, though? Remember that Sneakoscope I got you? Could you... Test Louis, just for my peace of mind?”

“Sure, Dani,” Harry said, wrapping an arm quickly around her shoulders and squeezing.

***

“ _So_ ,” Louis said at dinner, his lips twitching. “A little birdy told me that you and Danielle were _canoodling_ at the back of Arithmancy.”

“Seriously, who uses words like _canoodling_ ,” Harry replied, drawing out the ‘oo’ as he spooned soup into Louis’s bowl.

“Uh, I do? And you’re avoiding the question, Styles, should I be jealous?”

“Yes,” Harry said. “I’m running away with Danielle, we’ve already planned the wedding.”

“Harry’s going to wear white,” Danielle said seamlessly, even though she’d literally only just arrived at the table, completely missing the start of the conversation. “I plan to make an honest man of him.”

“Who’s the best man?” Niall asked curiously.

“Eleanor.”

“ _Obviously_ ,” Eleanor said, rolling her eyes. “Who else would it go to?”

“Uh, me?” Niall replied, looking genuinely frustrated. “Come on, I am _blatantly_ humorous best man material.”

“He has a point,” Zayn said, shrugging.

“I’m _sorry_ ,” Louis interrupted. “But did I miss a ‘Harry and Danielle are eloping’ memo? Did everyone else get the owl except me?”

“Looks like it,” Liam said, almost managing to pull off Genuinely Sympathetic if it wasn’t for the slight quirk of his lips.

“First of all, fuck all of you,” Louis said, blowing on his soup as he glared at them. “Secondly, _fuck_ you all. I’ll just marry Moaning Myrtle, she’ll still have me.”

“Moaning Myrtle comes on to every wispy boy that goes into the bathrooms,” Eleanor said, patting Louis’s shoulder.

“ _Wispy_?”

“Hey,” Danielle said quietly, leaning in close to Harry under the guise of reaching for the carrots. “We okay?”

“Course we are,” Harry said, surprised. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I kind of accused your boyfriend of wanting to murder you,” Danielle pointed out; Harry waved a hand.

“Dani, you’ve been my best friend ever since you introduced yourself as ‘Pretty obvious Muggleborn’ in first year, I know you’re only doing it because you’re worried about me.”

“Stop _whispering_ to each other!” Louis shrieked. “I am horrifically jealous!”

“Harry was just asking me if I wanted to take a ride on his broomstick,” Danielle said, wiggling her eyebrows lecherously.

“Oh my God, I’ve corrupted Danielle, this is the _greatest_ day of my life,” Eleanor said joyfully, launching across the table to throw her arms around Danielle. The result was food _everywhere_ , accidentally starting a food fight, and detentions for the seven of them, but it was hard to feel bitter when you were watching your six best mates give each other bubble moustaches as you cleaned the trophy cabinets.

***

“Hey,” Harry said quietly, as everyone was packing up the sponges and cloths. Louis looked up curiously. “Want to come back to my dorm?”

“Now?”

“No, Louis, I meant in nine months. Yes, _now_.”

“I – are you sure? We don’t have to-”

“-do anything, no, of course not, whatever you want-”

“-whatever _you_ want, I’m fine with whatever-”

“-I mean I totally respect that you might not be ready to-”

“-can go slow if you – wait, what?”

“What?”

“Merlin’s crotch stained boxers,” Eleanor said wearily, coming up between them and putting her arms around their shoulders. “Look, we tried to be respectful of your privacy, but you got increasingly louder, so I got nominated to talk some sense into you both. Now, answer me honestly, yes or no – _do you want to sleep with each other._ ” It wasn’t even a question, it was phrased as a statement.

“Only if Louis’s ready-”

“Harry, what did I _just_ say?”

“Only if _I’m_ ready? Haz, I’ve been waiting for _you_ to be ready!” Harry stared at Louis, who stared right back.

“Well, my work here is obviously done – use lube, remember to cast Silencing Charms, and try not to die.”

“ _Die_?” Harry squeaked as Eleanor walked away, waggling her fingers over her shoulder. “Wizards _die_ while having sex?”

“No! Well, no more often than any human does. Like, if they’re out of shape and unhealthy, I’m sure their internal organs might, like, give way or something-”

“Oh, right, well, I’m sure that won’t happen to us...” They both trailed off awkwardly, staring at the ceiling.

“You know,” Louis said quietly. “I don’t think I’m actually ready for this. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it _sounds_ great in theory, but I just don’t think-”

“Oh, thank God,” Harry said, Muggle speech patterns still in place even after seven years in the magical world. “I didn’t want to say anything, because we were finally talking about it – soon, maybe, but not today, my hands are all wrinkly and smell like the anticlimactic achievements of students from hundreds of years ago.” Harry had spent ten minutes polishing a trophy to someone called ‘Cedric Diggory’, and his arm felt like it was going to fall off.

“How about we just go back to yours and sleep for a bit?” Louis suggested.

“That sounds _great_.”


	15. A Culmination

Despite Louis suggesting they sleep only for a bit, he was out like a light as soon as they arrived at Harry’s dorm – meanwhile, Harry felt incredibly awake, and also somewhat anxious. He sat up in bed and stared down at Louis, who was sleeping peacefully. Eventually, after an undeterminable amount of somewhat creepy staring, Harry carefully swung his legs out of bed, pulled on some pyjama bottoms and padded down to the common room, which was perfectly empty – he’d been hoping Eleanor would still be awake.

He stood at the bottom of the girls’ dormitory stairs and whisper-shouted her name, but was met with very indignant shushes from the first and second years.

Fortunately for Harry, Eleanor’s demonic cat, Munchie, was prowling around the fireplace, growling under its breath. Ordinarily Harry would avoid Munchie, who seemed to have a penchant for taking chunks out of his fingers (between Zayn’s owl and Eleanor’s cat he had more scars on his hands than anywhere else on his body combined), but he really needed to discuss his anxieties with Eleanor.

“Psst, Munchie. Come here, girl.” Munchie looked at Harry as though she would like nothing more than to murder him in cold blood, but was just choosing to hold herself back. “Look, I don’t like you either, all right, but I need you to go wake El up.” At her name, Munchie perked up ever so slightly. “Yeah, go get her.” She sauntered away –

Only to stop a few steps up the staircase, just out of Harry’s reach.

“You’re _such_ a fucker,” Harry hissed – the cat looked smug. “I’ll throw something at you. Don’t think I won’t.” She meowed at him happily. Suddenly, Harry was hit by inspiration, and put his foot on the stairs.

The stairs smoothed into a slide, sending Munchie, howling and spitting, hurtling back down to the Common Room.

“Yeah, well, that’s what you get,” Harry mocked.

“Harry, why are you talking to my cat?” Eleanor said confusedly, landing neatly at the bottom of the slide. She was wearing her dressing gown over her pyjamas, her Gryffindor tie doubling up as her dressing gown tie.

“Because it is a menace to society. What’re you doing down here?”

“I heard my cat shrieking,” she replied, picking Munchie up, who purred contentedly. “And I found you tormenting her. What’s wrong?”

“I – I don’t know,” Harry said honestly – Eleanor looked up from where she was petting Munchie and looked at Harry seriously. “Just this feeling of anxiety, you know?” She frowned. “It’s probably nothing.”

“No, you know, I couldn’t sleep either, I’ve been reading old issues of ‘Wendy the Wacko Witch Hunter’ to pass the time.”

“You think something’s wrong?”

“I think we should check it out, see if anything weird’s happening in the castle,” Eleanor said, shrugging.

“Just a sec,” Harry said, jogging up the boys stairs and, very quietly, pulling out the Covert Cloak from the Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes crate stashed neatly at the bottom of his wardrobe.

“Good thinking,” Eleanor said approvingly, eyeing up the cloak speculatively. “Think it’ll cover both of us?”

“No one’s going to be looking for students’ feet,” Harry pointed out, waving his hand towards the portrait hole – Eleanor raised an eyebrow.

“You’re not going to wake up Louis?” She whispered, already shuffling out of the portrait hole.

“He wouldn’t want me to be sneaking out at night, especially after what happened to the Ravenclaw Quidditch team,” Harry replied.

“He’d have a point.”

“Which is why you’re the perfect person for this, because you admit that it’s dangerous and then do it with me anyway.”

“So sad Aiden didn’t get to hear that.”

They didn’t have to walk very far before they found something odd – opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy on the seventh floor, a huge iron door had emerged that neither of them had seen before.

“Can’t be good,” Eleanor said curiously, pulling her half of the cloak off her head to peer at the door closely. Just as she reached out a hand for the door knob, the handle began to turn.

“Run!” Harry hissed, pulling her hand and dragging her back under the cloak. Despite his demand, however, Eleanor remained still, covering her mouth and nose and gesturing for Harry to do the same.

The couple that emerged from the room behind the door were sunburnt, dirty, and clad in scraggy robes, but Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d seen them somewhere before.

And it wasn’t until Louis walked around the corner of the hall that Harry was able to place them as Mr and Mrs Tomlinson.

“Holy _shit_ ,” Eleanor moaned into her palm.

“This is _really_ stupid,” Louis said at the same time to his parents.

“How’re your sisters?” His mother said, ignoring his comment.

“Great, you know, considering.”

“And the boy?”

“I – I can’t find him.”

“You’ve _lost_ him? _Tonight_?!” Mr Tomlinson yelled to a chorus of frantic shushing from Mrs Tomlinson. “You had one job, where did you last see him?” The Tomlinsons strode away, but not before Harry distinctly heard Louis say

“I fell asleep in his room, and when I woke up he wasn’t there, I-”

“Harry,” Eleanor whispered, clasping his hand in her shaking one. “Harry, we need to go, we need to-” Harry blinked at her. “Shit, Harry, sweetie, don’t break down on me just yet, I-” her face twisted decisively and she pulled Harry away, veering them into empty classrooms and broom cupboards whenever they heard footsteps. She stopped them in front of a dark wood door with a stained glass window of a milkmaid embedded in it. Eleanor pulled the cloak off the pair of them, and tied it round her waist for safe keeping – the effect was quite disconcerting, seemingly slicing her in half.

“How can I help?” The milkmaid said politely, eyeing their cloak mussed hair with curiosity.

“I need to speak to Danielle and Liam.”

“I’m afraid the Head Boy has already retired to his quarters with Mr Malik,” she said, flushing delicately. “But I shall inform the Head Girl of your visit now.” She disappeared out of frame for a moment, and then returned just as the door flew open.

“What’s wrong?” Danielle said urgently, tying the sash of her yellow dressing gown neatly, her wand clenched between her teeth. “What’s happened?”

“The Tomlinsons are in the castle,” Eleanor explained quickly. “They’re looking for Harry.” The fantastic thing about Danielle was that she didn’t ask for time consuming explanations, but merely ushered them inside. She turned to the stained glass window.

“Greta, if anyone else asks for admittance, please inform them that Liam, Zayn, and myself have already retired. _Separately_ ,” she hissed, because even now Eleanor’s eyes had lit up mischievously. “Oh, unless Niall comes, you can let him in.”

“Am I to understand that there have been no other guests tonight?” Greta said pointedly, eyeing Eleanor and the still catatonic Harry.

“That’s right. Thank you.” Danielle shut the door, and then turned to look at Eleanor. “Am I right in assuming that Louis is involved?” Eleanor nodded once, jerkily. “Then I think it is best that you two remain here for the night, and then we confront Louis about this in the morning. Preferably under the watchful eye of the teachers.”

They were interrupted from further conversation by a loud rumbling coming from the grounds, followed by a series of flashes through the windows.

“We might have to move that confrontation up a bit,” Eleanor said grimly, pulling her wand out of her pyjama sleeve.

“What’s going on?” Liam said tiredly, emerging from his room with an equally sleepy Zayn in tow, both of whom were clad only in underwear.

“We’re not sure – can we borrow Zayn?”Eleanor said, her question punctuated by another loud explosion. “Li, you need to stay here with Harry, don’t let him out of your sight.”

“I – no!” Liam said angrily, winding his fingers with Zayn’s – the movement seemed subconscious. “Not until I get some sort of explanation –”

Eleanor inhaled deeply. “The Tomlinsons are here, Louis’s trying to lead them to Harry, there are explosions going off in the grounds, Zayn’s our best duellist, and someone needs to stay with Harry, because, let’s face it, Harry doesn’t really seem up to – Harry?” Hearing the situation aloud, and spoken so rapidly, seemed to have jolted Harry out of his shock, because he was shaking his head, eyes clearer.

“We should all stick together,” Harry said hoarsely, coughing. “We all work better as a team.”

“Harry, these people are trying to _kill_ you,” Eleanor said exasperatedly.

“And they’ll be trying to kill me whether I hide here or fight out there,” Harry pointed out.

“I – _fine_. But you stay with me, Styles, I’ve seen your idea of duelling.”

“We need to get Niall, then, if we’re going to do this properly,” Zayn said, pouring black coffee out of his wand and into a mug. “He’ll never forgive us if we let him sleep through this.” He downed the first coffee, and then started making a second.

“And we should get a message to Hermione Granger,” Danielle said.

“Okay, so me, Harry, and Zayn’ll go to Niall’s common room, and you and Liam can wake up the necessary adults, because if they hear it from us they’ll just think it’s a prank,” Eleanor said to Danielle, who nodded. “We’ll meet back here in half an hour.”

“I’m assuming you know how to get to the Hufflepuff common room?” Zayn said as the three of them jogged down the hall.

“Yeah, back in fourth year, remember, I dated the Hufflepuff Seeker,” Eleanor said, untying the Covert Cloak from her waist and handing it to Harry. “Put that on.”

“Shouldn’t we share it?”

“It wouldn’t fit all three of us, and you’re the one these people are after,” Eleanor said, forcibly wrapping the cloak around his shoulders. He’d just secured it over his head when Louis skidded around the corner – Harry felt his heart leap into his throat. Zayn turned to stare at Harry, ordering Harry to stay quiet with a mere widening of his eyes.

“Thank _Merlin_ , it’s just you two, I thought it was...” Louis trailed off as Eleanor and Zayn slowly raised their wands – Eleanor at his head, Zayn at his chest.

“Tomlinson, you lying, conniving, son of a harpy,” Zayn hissed. “He _trusted_ you.”

“Was _any_ of it real?” Eleanor said coldly. “Do you actually care about him at all?”

“He vouched for you, we all warned him off you, but he insisted you were a good person-”

“R-Riddikulus!” Louis shouted shakily, his wand practically vibrating in his hand – all that happened was a noise like a whip cracking.

“Uh, what’re you doing?” Zayn asked, all of the previous malice in his voice replaced by confusion.

“I thought you were – never mind, what’re _you_ doing?” Louis shot back. “I don’t have time for this-”

“Looking for Harry?” Eleanor said. “Want to hand him over to your parents? Oh, yeah, we _saw_ your little chat with them earlier.”

“It’s – It’s not like that!” Louis spluttered, backing away from where Zayn and Eleanor were advancing on him.

“Save it, Tomlinson, we’re sick of your constant lies-”

An explosion of fire roared down the hallway they were arguing in, the brunt of which narrowly missed incinerating Harry entirely – the Covert Cloak, however, went up in white hot flames.

“We need to go!” Harry shouted uselessly to no one in particular – he felt, rather than saw, hands pulling him away from the heat and smoke.

“Holy shit! Zayn, he’s burnt real bad!” Eleanor yelled, her voice sounding very far away.

“Nothing burn-healing paste won’t clear up!” came Zayn’s reply, which sounded much closer – Harry blinked, trying to clear the smoke out of his eyes. He could just make out their silhouettes, Zayn’s on his right, Eleanor’s on his left.

“L-Louis?” Harry spat out, coughing to clear the smoke out of his lungs.

“We were kind of focused on pulling _you_ out of the fire,” Eleanor said, her voice still sounding like she’d been submerged in water.

“He’s still _in_ there?” Harry pulled himself away from them and headed back towards the flames, stumbling slightly; Zayn steadied him with one hand.

“Haz, he _wants you dead_!” Eleanor shouted, coming up on Harry’s right side, her voice becoming much clearer.

“We can’t leave him to burn to death!”

Eleanor snarled angrily. “If I _die_ , you are paying for my funeral. Zayn, get _him_ ,” she pointed accusingly at Harry. “To safety. This looks like Fiendfyre, so Flame Freezing Charms aren’t gonna cut it.” She blasted a path through the fire with her wand, shed her dressing gown, held her wand up to her hair and sheared a hefty majority of it off, leaving it short, choppy, and much less likely to catch alight. She charged into the fire just as Zayn pulled Harry down the corridor and round the corner.

“Sit down,” he ordered, and Harry dutifully did as he was told. “Tell me when it gets quiet.” He started snapping his fingers by Harry’s head, slowly circling his hand around and nodding whenever Harry described the change in noise level. “You’ve done something to your left ear, that’s why your balance is off.” Zayn tapped his wand to Harry’s ear – he felt something crunch white hot in his head, and then his hearing returned, just as Eleanor stumbled around the corner, Louis draped over her shoulders.

“He’s fine,” Eleanor called out. “Probably just inhaled too much smoke, a Bubblehead Charm filled with an Air Purification Charm should clear him up nicely.” Zayn did as she suggested, performing the same on Eleanor without her prompting. The three of them watched as Louis gradually came to.

“Thanks,” he said weakly.

“Don’t thank me,” Eleanor said coldly, pushing Louis off her. “I was willing to let you burn to death painfully, but he wanted to get you out.” She jerked her chin at Harry; Louis looked like he was going to pass out from relief – or smoke inhalation, it was pretty hard to tell the difference.

“Haz?” Harry nodded mutely, scrambling to stand up. “Haz, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t want this, I didn’t want-”

“Harry, what do you want us to do with him?” Zayn said, cutting Louis off with a wand to his throat.

“I, I don’t-” Harry was saved from answering by Liam, Danielle, and Niall running around the corner.

“What _happened_?” Liam yelled somewhat hysterically, skidding to a halt in front of Zayn and pulling him close. “You didn’t make it back, so we went to the Hufflepuff common room, but Niall said he hadn’t seen you-”

“M’fine,” Zayn said, wrapping his arms around Liam. “We’re all fine.”

“Except for picking up some unwanted baggage,” Eleanor said, glaring at Louis.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but Haz _hates_ when people go out of their way to protect him, and then I ended up having to-”

“Wait,” Niall said slowly, frowning. “I thought Louis wanted Harry _dead_?”

There was a long, confused silence. Then,

“ _What_?” Louis shouted, eyes wide. “Merlin’s gangrenous bellend, you all thought I – have _none_ of you been paying _any_ attention?” He turned to Harry, looking supremely hurt. “ _You_ thought I...?”

“But – but we _heard_ you!” Eleanor said indignantly, squaring her shoulders and standing between Louis and Harry. “Your parents are looking for Harry, and you told them you lost him!”

“Yeah, they are looking for him, and yes, I _did_ lose him, but how did you get ‘and I want Harry dead’ from that?”

“Perhaps,” Danielle said peaceably, gently touching Eleanor’s upper arm. “We should return to the Heads dormitory, where we can all fill each other in on what has happened so far.”

***

“I wasn’t lying when I said my parents don’t like Harry Potter,” Louis began, standing in the middle of the rug and staring at the floor. Eleanor was sitting stiffly at Harry’s side on the sofa, and everyone else had arranged transfigured cushions and beanbags into comfy configurations. “During our sixth year, the Ministry did a spot-check on our house, and found all these plans my parents had drafted up to get rid of him.

“The plans were over a decade old, and Mother said they’d forgotten all about them – I don’t know whether I believe them on that, but the point is my parents were sentenced to one year’s community service.”

“And how is this relevant?” Eleanor said, rolling her eyes – Danielle leaned over and shushed her.

“At the end of sixth year, our house got broken into, and somebody stole the plans, which the Ministry had been intending to destroy the next day.”

“So,” Danielle said slowly. “The plans your parents drafted... Are currently being used by the Insurgents?”

Louis nodded. “Obviously when this group started using plans identical to the ones my parents had drafted they became prime suspects, so they went into hiding – they only told me all of this recently, by the way. You know when I was sending letters to their PA during the Quidditch Cup Final?” They all nodded. “They’d told Rachel to tell me everything – up until then, I believed they wanted Harry dead.”

“So... They _don’t_ want me dead?” Harry asked

“I’ll be honest with you, they didn’t know shit about you until you started appearing in the newspaper,” Louis said. “And they cared about you just as little until I told them... told them I’d rather die than lose you.”

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Zayn cut him off briskly. “So, the Harry element of the plan is entirely the Insurgents doing?” Louis nodded. “Well, that clears something up.”

“What?”

“I always wondered why a group as seemingly intelligent at the Insurgents would use such a tenuous link to turn Harry – our Harry – into the next Chosen One. Like, causing trouble, but not _loads_ of trouble, which just makes the Aurors look incompetant when they can't stop them? Attacking the Ravenclaws, who'd  _know_ how to keep themselves safe, rather than the Gryffindors? There were some  _really_ good plans here, so the Harry stuff just didn't make sense. But now we know the intelligent parts of the plan came from the Tomlinsons, and _this_ part came from somebody a lot denser.”

“Someone with a personal grudge against Harry Potter,” Liam said slowly.

“That could be _anyone_ ,” Eleanor moaned, flopping back against the sofa, her own grudge against Louis long forgotten in the face of this new mystery.

“To be fair, a lot of the ones with grudges are in Azkaban,” Niall pointed out.

“Did anyone keep out of Azkaban?” Harry asked.

“Actually,” Danielle said, sitting up eagerly. “Now that you mention it, I read about a brother and sister duo called the Carrows – they worked here at Hogwarts during the war, they were _horrendous_ , but they managed to convince the Wizengamot that they’d been Imperiused. Harry Potter tried to get them put away, but as they frequently mentioned, they never actually _killed_ anyone.”

“They got out on a technicality,” Zayn explained further. “They were too stupid to murder anyone. But I’m willing to bet that if anyone’s got a grudge, it’ll be them.”

“One thing,” Eleanor said slowly, glancing at Louis. “If he’s not trying to kill Harry, who’s attacking the castle?” Her words were punctuated by a bang and a scream in the distance.

“My guess? The Insurgents found another secret passageway, and they’ve been trying to cause as much mayhem as possible to make Potter look bad,” Niall said.

“Unfortunately for them, Harry Potter is already on his way with an army of Aurors, and tonight it’ll be over once and for all,” Liam said triumphantly.

“Miss Peazer?” Greta the stained glass milkmaid said, swaying her bucket from side to side. “There’s a woman outside requesting admittance, she says it’s urgent.”

“Who?”

“She says it’s not safe to reveal her name, but I recognise her as a previous student of this school,” Greta said awkwardly, eyes widening significantly.

“Oh, it’ll probably be Hermione Granger,” Danielle said brightly, opening the door with a swing. “Hello, Miss-” she was cut off by a flash of red light, and then she crumpled to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut – Eleanor screamed.

The woman at the door strode over her, taking care to tread on her fingers. “Filthy Mudblood,” she spat, before turning her yellowing grin to the others. “My my, this _is_ cosy, ain’t it? Now, none of you have to die, as long as you hand _him_ over.” She pointed a sharpened fingernail at Harry.

“Not bloody likely, Carrow,” Louis said fiercely, stepping forward to Harry’s left just as Eleanor did the same on his right.

“I’m sorry, are we supposed to be _scared_ of you?” Eleanor said brashly, examining her nails nonchalantly – Harry could just see her fingers shaking slightly. “There’s six of us and one of you, unless your brother is lurking nearby?” She asked mock-politely.

“He’s busy, you irritating brat.”

“ _Brat_? I’d watch your mouth, love, you’re talking to some of the richest students at this school,” Niall said, smiling coldly.

Harry blinked – he forgot, sometimes, just how influential his friends were outside the walls of Hogwarts.

“And I’ll take you all down just as fast as that Mudblood,” Alecto Carrow said, jerking her thumb at Danielle’s prone body – thankfully, Harry could make out the slow rise and fall of her chest, but she was very pale.

“Haz,” Louis hissed. “Get Danielle and run, take her to the Hospital Wing, we’ll-” Louis’s plan was rendered unnecessary when Alecto tipped forward, surprise in her wide eyes.

“I’ve been waiting to do that for some time,” Hermione Granger said, entirely too cheerfully for someone bleeding copiously through the nose. “Is everyone okay?”

“Danielle got hit by something,” Eleanor said worriedly, her arrogant confidence slipping as she hurried over to Danielle’s side. Hermione knelt down next to her, scanning her wand up and down Danielle’s body.

“Rennervate,” she muttered. “It appears to be an increasing debilitating variant of Stupefy – she’ll have to go to the Hospital Wing, but she should be fine.” Just as she finished speaking Danielle began to rouse, smacking her lips and stretching her arms.

“Thanks,” Eleanor said gratefully, wrapping her arms carefully around Danielle’s shoulders.

“What’s been happening?” Liam asked Hermione.

“You got a message to us just in time – no fatalities, everyone involved apprehended safely and securely. It seems you kids actually took the brunt of the attack,” she finished, eyeing Harry, Louis, Zayn and Eleanor’s burns.

“We’re fine,” Louis said quickly.

“Regardless, you’ll all have to accompany Miss Peazer to the Hospital Wing anyway, so Madam Pomfrey can examine you then,” Hermione said firmly, ushering them out of the room.

***

The Hospital Wing was filled with patients when they arrived, carrying Danielle throne style despite her increasingly indignant protests.

“Is she in imminent danger? Are you in imminent danger?” Madam Pomfrey said stressedly, swapping potions around in her apron pocket. Danielle shook her head. “Wait over there, then, I’m swamped.” She waved her hand vaguely over to where a crowd of people, mostly adults, were sitting, sporting minor injuries. Harry Potter was sitting among them, dictating a letter to Ron Weasley.

“-No, don’t tell her I hit my head, are you daft-”

“She’s my sister, mate, I’m not gonna lie to her!”

“I’m your best friend, she’ll roast me on a spit if she finds out I got injured!”

“You deserve it!”

“Boys, please, we’re in the _Hospital Wing_ ,” Hermione said, pained, sitting next to Ron.

“Sorry, dear.”

“Sorry, Hermione.”

“Want to go find a place to sit?” Zayn said – they all drifted away, and Harry ended up sitting between Eleanor and Louis.

“Hey,” she said awkwardly, leaning past Harry to look at Louis. “Sorry, you know, for earlier. Zayn is, too.”

“Zayn’s already apologised, but neither of you need to,” Louis said uncomfortably, scratching the back of his head. “I understand why you did it.”

“Yeah, we’re all a little bit crazy when it comes to protecting Hazza,” she said, ruffling Harry’s hair to supplement her point. They sat quietly for a moment, watching Madam Pomfrey work manically. Then Louis stiffened abruptly. 

“Hey,” Louis said quietly, turning to talk to Zayn. “Talk to me.” Harry turned round curiously. “They’re discussing my parents over there, I’d rather not hear this.” Harry looked over to where Louis was jerking his head; he stood up, and went over to Hermione Granger.

“Um, Miss Granger?” He said quietly – she looked up politely, eyes widened curiously. “The Tomlinsons, are they-”

“They’ve been taken into custody, you’re completely safe,” she replied, raising her eyebrows at Harry. “Although, judging by your expression, that’s not the news you wanted to hear?”

“Could you take me to see them?” Harry asked. “I’m pretty sure they’re innocent, and I think I have a way to prove it, can we stop by the Gryffindor common room first?”

“I – yes, certainly, but Mr Styles, you know your word alone won’t be enough to secure an acquittal?”

“I know,” Harry said. “But I’ve got evidence, like, actual evidence. I think.”

The Tomlinsons were being held in an empty classroom on the second floor; they looked even worse than they had a few hours previously, although they did look somewhat relieved when Harry walked in.

“Did he find you? Is he safe?” They said immediately, leaning forward against their chains.

“He’s fine,” Harry said, not needing any clarification for who they were referring to. He reached into his dressing gown pocket, which he’d finally gotten to wear after spending most of the night shirtless. “If anyone’s interested, the Tomlinsons don’t want me dead.”

“Who is this?” One of the guards said, eyeing Harry with distaste.

“Harry Styles,” Hermione interceded. “Harry, dear, you can’t just-”

“This is a customised Sneakoscope,” he said, holding it out for their perusal. “It specifically detects ill intentions towards the holder. Look-” he passed it to Mrs Tomlinson – the device started to whistle. “That’s because you’re all planning on putting her into Azkaban. But when _I_ hold it?” Silence.

“Extra _ordinary_ ,” Hermione whispered, taking the Sneakoscope and twirling it in her hands. “That is remarkable.”

“Of course,” she continued as they left the classroom the Tomlinsons were being held in. “They’ll still have to be put on trial, but with this device and a few drops of Veritaserum, we can probably get them off free of charge!”

She escorted Harry back to his dormitory, and Harry would’ve quite happily face planted onto the bed, if it hadn’t been for the boy already sitting on it.

Louis looked _wrecked_ , and that wasn’t because of the orange paste smeared on his face. His face, what little could be seen past the burn cream, was pale and gaunt, his eyes were red rimmed and glassy, and he was trembling. Before Harry could say anything, Louis held up a hand.

“Pomfrey told me to give you this,” he said, gesturing to the little white pot. “For your burns, you know.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, sitting next to Louis and taking the pot. He could feel Louis’s eyes on him as he smeared the paste on his face – it felt cool and damp, especially against the hot skin of his burns.

“Um, I need you to tell me, preferably now, if you want me gone,” Louis blurted out.

“I don’t mind you watching me put paste on my face,” Harry said confusedly; Louis shook his head.

“No, I mean, gone, you know, for good. If you want. I’ve been a pretty shit boyfriend, what with the lying, and making you think I wanted to kill you, and then I got angry because you didn’t magically clock onto feelings I couldn’t even fully comprehend myself. But I’m selfish, and I’d rather you tell me now if you want me to leave, then wait for ages to spare my feelings.”

“ _Gone_?!” Harry said, feeling the overwhelming urge to laugh – so he did. “Are you _daft_?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure you are,” Louis said, looking surprised and concerned.

“Lou, I am completely and utterly gone for you. I thought you wanted me dead and I _still_ tried to run into a fire for you.”

Louis laughed incredulously. “Wow, you _are_ daft. You realise that if I don’t leave now, you’ll never be able to get rid of me?”

“Good.” Harry grinned, leaned over, and kissed Louis’s equally ecstatic mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't even lie, I got lazy writing this, which is why it's taken two weeks rather than the customary four or so days. Hopefully it makes sense, and thank you for being patient! You're all lovely.  
> There's definitely one more chapter, potentially two, depending on how long it takes to tie off all the loose ends left, and then this'll be done, because as exciting as it would be to write their entire life stories, there is such a thing as beating a dead horse. Although I could probably be convinced to do timestamps!  
> In fact, yeah, that's a good idea, you should all come and request one shots on my tumblr, patthedogscrewthebulb !!


	16. Limitless

“I am going to fail,” Harry moaned, flopping down onto the Gryffindor common room sofa. He’d just taken his last exam, Arithmancy, and was currently having a mental breakdown over how the question, ‘Deconstruct Bridget Wenlock’s theories of the number 7 – was 6 right to be afraid?’ seemed far too easy – ergo, he must have interpreted the question wrong, and had undoubtedly failed.

“Hmm,” Eleanor hummed from the floor, where she was absentmindedly drawing runes on the stone floor with her wand – her Ancient Runes exam had been that morning, but she’d once told Harry that it took a lot longer to get out of the headspace required to think in Runic.

“They’ll probably confiscate my wand. Do they do that, do you think? I’d probably be a danger to society, so they’re not going to let me out into the magical community – oh God, what if I end up working in a fast food place-”

“Like that one we went to over Christmas?” Eleanor said slowly, her accent more musical and whimsical than it usually was. “No shame in that.”

Harry leaned his head against the arm of the sofa, staring up at the common room ceiling. The truth was that he had no _idea_ what he was going to do with his life after Hogwarts, whether he passed or not.

“Pack your bags, kids, we’re going on an adventure!” Harry turned around blearily; Eleanor said something distractedly in Runic.

“Niall, how did you even get _in_ here?” Harry asked, staring up at Niall, who was grinning and holding a rucksack.

“Hufflepuffs have their resources,” he said vaguely. “Get up, both of you, the Defence Against the Dark Arts exam’s just about to finish, so I’ll need you on side to kidnap the others so we can do something fun before graduation!”

“Niall,” Eleanor said. “I can barely speak English, I cannot marshal the troupes.”

“Listen, you listless idiots,” Niall said seriously. “In five days we are going to graduate – my family is going back to Ireland, Zayn, Danielle and Liam are going on that Grand Tour, Louis’s going to be spending most of his time looking after his little sisters while his parents get their names cleared, and who knows what you two are up to. The point is there’s no way of knowing when we’ll all get to see each other again, so we need to do _something_ exciting before we all end up old and probably working at the Ministry.”

“What did you have in mind?” Harry said, feeling a bit less like the world was going to end.

“We go to Hogsmeade and get totally and utterly smashed,” Niall said proudly, nodding.

“Madame Rosmerta is not going to let us have Firewhiskey, even if we are of age,” Eleanor said; Niall jiggled his rucksack ever so slightly, making it clink tellingly. Eleanor sat up and grinned wickedly. “You didn’t.”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Niall said primly. “I just have loads and loads of vials of Salamander blood from my Potions exam. Or at least, that’s what it’ll look like if anyone checks.”

“Seven years of Charms class obviously paid off for you,” Harry said wryly, pulling off his cloak. “Come on then, let’s go get the others.”

***

By mutual agreement, they didn’t inform Liam and Danielle of their plan until they were actually _at_ Hogsmeade, but they needn’t have bothered with the secrecy.

“It’s been a long, difficult seven years,” Danielle said, opening the door to the Three Broomsticks and gesturing for everyone to enter. “I think we can afford to let our hair down for the night. Just one question before I give myself up to Niall’s questionable alcohol choices – how are we going to get home?”

“Already thought of,” Niall said. “My parents own a cottage just outside Hogsmeade that they used to stay in whenever they got called up to the school for me or me brother, so we can just stay there and then come back to Hogwarts tomorrow.” Danielle didn’t look best pleased by this plan, but as it was obviously better than attempting to make their way back to their respective dormitories late at night, she let it go.

“You look tired,” Harry said quietly to Louis, nudging him in the side. “You all right?”

“Good old fashioned exam cramming last night, don’t worry,” Louis said, yawning. “Would have an early night, but I don’t think Niall’d ever forgive me.”

However, it soon became apparent that not even alcohol was going to be enough to keep Louis awake – they hadn’t even been at the Three Broomsticks for half an hour before Louis was drooping on Harry’s shoulder, barely keeping his eyes awake.

“Take him home already,” Eleanor said exasperatedly, waving a hand at them both. “We can always come out again, he’s no fun when he’s drooling on you.”

“Noo,” Louis whined as Harry helped him to his feet. “’S not even six yet.”

“An early night’ll do you the world of good,” Danielle said, smiling at them both. “In fact, I hate to break up the party, but I might head back, too, that exam took a lot out of me.”

“Well, _I’m_ staying,” Eleanor said firmly, downing not only her own drink, but Harry’s and Danielle’s too, in quick succession. “I want to get drunk and forget Runic for the rest of my life.”

“Here here!” Niall cheered, clinking his glass against hers. Liam and Zayn also decided to remain at the pub, so it was just Harry, Louis and Danielle heading back to Hogwarts, Harry and Danielle supporting an almost asleep Louis between them.

“So, Harry, what’s your plan?” Danielle asked. “You know, the offer to join us on our Grand Tour still stands?”

“Unless Mum sends an owl saying that we’ve miraculously won the lottery, that isn’t going to happen – and no, you’re not all paying for me to come along with you.” Because that had been tentatively mentioned, and Harry had been so mortified that he hadn’t spoken to them for days. Either he would pay his own way around the world, or he just wouldn’t go at all, there wasn’t an in between. “And I don’t know. I might look into volunteering at the Horan’s Quidditch Camp over the summer?”

“So Louis hasn’t...?” She shook her head. “Never mind.”

“No, you can’t do that, you can’t just say things like that,” Harry said indignantly.

“It’s up to Louis to get his act in gear,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I thought he’d have mentioned something by now, especially since it’s five days until we graduate.”

Despite Harry’s incessant protesting, even going so far as to follow Danielle to the Head dormitories, she refused to reveal what Louis had told her.

“He’ll tell you in his own time,” she said, looking at Louis incredulously, who just grinned back sleepily. “Good night, boys.”

“Come on then, Lou, let’s get you to bed.” Louis shook his head.

“Your dorm.”

“I – okay, fine.” They walked in silence for a bit.

Eventually, Louis piped up, “Was gonna tell you tonight. Or, ask you. It’s a question, so I was gonna _ask_ you.” He smacked his lips and yawned. “Tell you later, if I don’t chicken out.”

***

Harry was in his Defence Against the Dark Arts exam, but, stupidly, he’d forgotten his quill. He turned to the person behind him to ask for a quill, but instead said

“Would you like fries with that?”

“Harry? What in Merlin’s name are you on about?” Harry blinked, confused. “You just started shouting in your sleep, mate, you all right?”

“Yeah, weird dream,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Haz,” Louis said amusedly. “It’s morning, I’ve been awake for ages.”

“Why didn’t you-”

“You looked peaceful,” Louis said, shrugging unapologetically.

“You were watching me sleep.” It wasn’t a question – again, Louis shrugged nonchalantly, but his slight blush belied his indifference. “Okay, so, what were you going to ask me?”

“Was hoping you’d forgotten that, actually.” Louis scratched the back of his neck. “Um. So, we’ve been dating for quite a bit now, and I just realised you’ve never met my sisters properly? I mean, you’ve met Lottie, but that doesn’t really count, you didn’t know she was my sister until a few months ago. Actually, that wasn’t what I wanted to ask you at all, but do you want to stay at mine for a few days over the summer?” Harry nodded, but Louis didn’t give him time to say anything in response, ploughing on with his nervous monologue. “In August I’m moving down to London for an internship at the Ministry.”

“Lou, that’s great-”

“I was thinking, if you figure out what you want to do and it’s in London, maybe we could... Live together, or something. I don’t know, it’s a really dumb idea-” Harry dropped a kiss onto the corner of Louis’s mouth.

“Sounds _fantastic_.”

 

 

**_Epilogue_ **

****

****

“Niall, seriously, I’m just a reserve, you really don’t need to-”

“Haz,” Niall said, glaring at Harry through the fire. “It’s your first game – even if you were waiting on the sidelines with oranges like a proper Quidditch mum, I’d still be coming down to cheer you on. And who knows, maybe the Keeper will get a Bludger to the face and have to leave so you can have your moment to shine?”

“That’s a terrible thing to say,” Harry said, grinning.

By an extreme stroke of luck, the manager of the English Quidditch team had gone scouting to the Horan’s Quidditch Camp over the summer Harry had volunteered there and, in an even greater stroke of luck than the previous, had witnessed Harry actually getting to fly. He’d been signed on as a reserve for the national team, giving him a reason to move down to London with Louis. 

“I mean, it’s no _Irish_ Quidditch team taking you on,” Niall had said when Harry had told him. “But maybe they’ll take you on eventually.”

And, in another stroke of luck ("It's not _luck_ ," Danielle would say irritably. "You worked  _hard_."), Harry had passed all of his NEWTs, so if Quidditch didn't work out, he'd be able to go into another line of work - the future, for now, was limitless. And so, seven months after graduating Hogwarts, the English team were set to play a friendly against Uganda. Harry had been the receiver of two Floo calls (Niall and Eleanor) and one late night knock on the door (Liam, Zayn, and Danielle, back early from their tour), all of whom had expressed their intentions of being at his match.

And so what if Louis had been called in to work last minute? He was the only one of them with an actual job (Harry didn’t count professional Quidditch as a _job_ , it was far too fun for that), and he couldn’t just tell his employer that he needed to watch his boyfriend sit as a reserve for England.

“It still _sucks_ ,” Harry moaned – his friends just clucked their tongues sympathetically and patted his head. Literally, they each took a turn patting his head until he felt like a well loved rabbit.

“You know he’d be there if he could,” Danielle said, smiling beatifically – she’d cut her hair slightly shorter after a cursed mummy in Egypt had bitten a chunk of it out.

“We’ll cheer extra loudly every time the English Keeper looks a bit tired,” Zayn said, grinning.

“You’re all terrible.” A face popped up in their fireplace – Harry glanced over.

“Styles,” Cowell said, glancing over. “Grimshaw’s gone sick.” Harry whipped his head round to his friends, eyes wide – they all shook their heads frantically. “Up for a friendly?”

“Yes. Yes! God, yes!” Cowell smiled fondly at the ‘Muggleism’.

“See you on the pitch.”

***

“I can’t do this,” Harry thought, staring down at his shin guards in the hopes that they would reveal the answers.

They did not.

He’d always loved playing Quidditch and yes, he’d always get a little nervous before playing, but that was when he was just the Keeper for the Gryffindor team – now he was playing _internationally_.

“You know, for the youngest national team player since Krum, you could stand to look a little more cheerful.”

Harry looked up quickly – Louis was standing at the changing room door, holding a bouquet of flowers and grinning sheepishly at Harry’s teammates, who were smirking at him.

“I thought you had-”

“Work?” Louis’s grin turned proud, like when he’d pulled off a successful prank. “The thing about working for your dad is that sometimes he’s willing to be a little lenient, especially for the guy that effectively kept him and his wife out of Azkaban.” Louis shrugged. “I just neglected to tell you. Told everyone else, though.”

“ _Everyone_ else. Okay, shrimp, you have ten minutes before we’ll have no choice but to come looking for you,” Teasdale, their team captain, said, ruffling Louis’s hair as she led the team outside.

“Ten minutes, obviously something going wrong _there_ if she thinks it can be done properly in ten minutes,” Louis grumbled.

“Nine minutes!” Teasdale called through – Louis swore.

“Nine minutes for what?” Harry asked worriedly, wincing.

“Well, I figured you’d probably be nervous, first big game and everything,” Louis said, sounding pretty nervous himself. “So I thought I’d take your mind off it.”

“Take my mind off – _oh_ ,” Harry said, cottoning on when Louis raised his eyebrows significantly. “And how were you, uh, going to-” Louis drew closer, closing Harry into the corner, his back hitting the wall; Louis dropped to his knees, grinning. “Oh my _God_.”

“Mmm, talk Muggle to me, baby,” Louis quipped, eyeing Harry’s crotch speculatively. They’d done blowjobs before, multiple ( _multiple_ ) times, but never somewhere quite so _public_ , and _never_ before Harry needed to go out and play in front of thousands. “You’re already half hard.”

“You would be too if I just dropped to my knees in front of you at your work place,” Harry said defensively, resisting the urge to cover his crotch with his hands.

“Actually, it’d probably shrivel in terror, my desk is right next to Dad’s.”

“Let’s not talk about your dad while you’re planning on sucking my dick.” Louis looked up at Harry through his eyelashes, grinning wickedly, before cupping Harry’s balls torturously slowly. “ _Fuck_.”

The thing about Quidditch pants, and wizarding clothing in general, was that they were not designed to be removed easily – that was what wands were for, after all. After a tense moment where Louis’s wand was dangerously close to Harry’s dick, they finally managed to remove Harry’s trousers and pants.

Louis seemed to be pulling all the tricks to get Harry to cum as quickly as possible – tracing the veins with his tongue, kitten licks at the head and then, with absolutely no warning (and in a move that Harry couldn’t help imagining Louis _practicing_ ) taking Harry deep into his mouth and _humming_. Harry kept up a litany of cursing, hands nestled deep in Louis’s hair.

He lasted a horrendously embarrassing four minutes under Louis’s incessant attention.

“Better?” Louis said after he’d cleaned Harry off and magicked his pants back on for him.

“Huh?”

“Your match? Do you feel better?”

“To be honest I think I’ve forgotten everything but my orgasm,” Harry said weakly. Match? What match?

***

“I’ve never seen you play so _fluidly_ ,” Cowell said, impressed, prompting smirks and snickers from the rest of the team.

“I’m sure _fluids_ had something to do with it,” Atkin muttered down Harry’s ear, and it was only through seven years of similar remarks from Eleanor and Aiden that Harry managed not to blush horrendously.

They hadn’t won the match, the seeker from Uganda had been too good for them to have a hope of winning, but Harry was pleased with his own performance – something further validated by his friends barging into the changing rooms once they were sure the rest of the team had gone.

“If they don’t sign you on next season, I’m going to drop hints at the next Ireland game I go to, get you signed by a team that appreciates _talent_ ,” Niall said, his accent more pronounced, as it got after every England game Niall went to see.

“You were _amazing_ , Harry,” Danielle said proudly, hugging him.

“Let’s be honest, it was all my hard work training him,” Eleanor said with a grin.

“We’re going out to celebrate, you-”

“He will be with you in several hours,” Louis interrupted, lacing his hand within Harry’s. “He owes me.”

“...Gross,” Zayn said, wrinkling his nose. “Don’t want to know.” Liam nodded emphatically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I had no ideas for the end of this? I am terrible at ending sequential fic - where should it be ended? When is the right moment? So I chose to end it when they're all nineteen-ish - old enough to have solved their school problems, but still young enough for the world to still be shiny and bright and optimistic.  
> It's half one in the morning.  
> I might even update my other two fics in the next day or two.  
> Or I might leave them till September. We just do not know.  
> p.s. send one shot prompts to patthedogscrewthebulb on tumblr.corn

**Author's Note:**

> I will more than happily wax lyrical over my sorting choices, so if you're feeling indignant for some reason, hit me up with an angry capitalised message or something.  
> You may also have noticed that the boys are acting slightly differently to how they act in the real world - the answer to this is your personality would probably be a bit different too if you'd grown up as a witch/wizard! I'm taking the vague ideas of the boys and just... Plunging those ideas into Hogwarts, I guess. The only resemblance these boys have to One Direction are their names and certain personality traits.  
> Aside from that little soapbox rant, thank you for reading thus far!


End file.
